


Classic Combination: A Love Story

by AnnieMar



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Dramedy, F/M, Fake Marriage, Feels, Huddling For Warmth, Romantic Comedy, Smut, fluffy fluff balls, sex pollen (sorta)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-01
Updated: 2017-09-05
Packaged: 2018-04-07 03:10:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 61,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4247133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnieMar/pseuds/AnnieMar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happens when you combine one gorgeous super soldier recovering from being brainwashed for decades ... and one former-intern who on the surface seems like the resident comedic relief for the Avengers, but actually has some serious layers ... and maybe a secret or two?</p><p>You get this fic. </p><p><i>"We should be best friends, James Buchanan ... because that's what we are. In the story of Captain America, greatest hero of our times, and Jane Foster, famous Nobel Prize-winning scientist, and a god's one true love … that's what we are. We're the classic best friends. We're the sidekicks. We should be the main characters in our own story."</i> #wintershock</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Meet cute

**Author's Note:**

> So this is me cramming my interpretation of a bunch of romantic comedy and/or fic-type tropes into one fun story. Darcy takes on a bit of a Sidney Bristow-like role in this one. I'm normally a Tasertricks girl, but Bucky (and Steve) kinda sneaked into my brain unannounced, and now there is nothing to be done, this simply must be written ;-)

 

**~~::::::...::::::~~**

* * *

Darcy was having a rough night of kicking at the covers, never finding a comfortable position to sleep in. It was happening way too often lately. She was much too antsy and restless, probably having to do with what day of the month it was, she theorized. So instead of continuing to thrash around like a madwoman, at around 2 am, she admitted defeat and headed to her kitchen.

Since there was sadly no sex happening in her life, as she'd decided to swear it off for the time-being, what she needed was chocolate, and she needed it now. Like, mass quantities of it. A completely practical replacement for dudes. She opened her pantry and saw that there wasn’t any of the good stuff left, not even of the cereal variety. No Cocoa Pebbles. No nearly empty jar of Nutella to scrape away at. No Hersey’s Kisses. And nope, not any old and stale Halloween candy in her "in case of emergencies" drawer either.

Nothing.

“Fuck.”

She opened her refrigerator door, thinking there might be chocolate milk or some yogurt with at least a chocolate swirl on top, but there was zilch … and the only ice cream in the freezer was made out of coconut milk, from a failed attempt at going vegan. So not what she wanted right now. Her last pint of Ben & Jerry’s Brownie Batter had been sacrificed to Foster’s last case of the cries. A storm had rolled in the previous weekend and Jane had gotten that look in her eye … could it be him? Her God of Thunder boyfriend?

Alas, it was only a gloomy autumn shower.

Nope, this would not do. Darcy flung open her front door, practically running down the hallway in her and Jane’s little corner of the Avengers facility. She was on a mission, and that mission was chocolate. She knew where she could find success … in the community kitchen, there was a vending machine filled exclusively with Peanut Butter Snickers bars, thanks to Clint. God bless Hawkeye, her personal hero and current favorite Avenger. There was only one thing better in this life than chocolate, and that was chocolate when it was combined with peanut butter.

She also knew that Foster kept a stash of chocolate milk in the back of the fridge, for when she ate lunch with humans instead of scientific theories. It was the good kind of chocolate milk, the kind that was like drinking a candy bar. That was exactly what she needed.

Chocolate Peanut Butter Snickers with a chaser of rich chocolate milk. Perfection.

* * *

**~~*...*~~**

There was something about sitting alone in the dark that Bucky took comfort in. He could be in a big space yet still feel cocooned, safe ... hidden. And it was fine if he couldn’t exactly see everything, though once his eyes adjusted, he could still make out plenty … because it made him tune into his hearing. He could hear everything, his heightened senses turned up.

He’d been restless in his room, tired of being fussed over. Tired of being asked questions, especially of the "are you okay?" variety. And now that he was allowed to roam around by himself, and not on a leash, he wanted to be alone. He was by himself for the first time in what seemed like months. Blissful silence, relief from the constant presence of people. He was Bucky again, he didn't have to think "who?" any longer when people called him his own name ... but with that came the integration of what felt like several personalities. There was "before the war" Bucky, there was "after Zola, during the war" Bucky ... and there was The Winter Soldier. The Asset. More weapon than man. "They" had wanted more weapon, but there had always been the man buried underneath, trying to break the surface, trying to breath. When that had finally happened, finally able to take a deep breath, he realized he was just a fish out of water, struggling ... perhaps better off below.

_Too late now._

Bucky had stood at the refrigerator for what seemed like hours, looking for something to eat, bombarded with frozen boxes full of strange food, nothing familiar. Steve had showed him how to use a microwave to instantly prepare anything he wanted, but none of it seemed right. This new food had too much flavor, too much vibrancy. Everything around him was too vibrant. He was used to subdued flavors, subdued colors, and subdued people … those that carried themselves with a quiet and cold control. Utilitarian. Nothing more. Nothing indulgent.

He’d sat down at the kitchen table, trying to figure out what to do next. What to do with freedom, or at least the little taste of freedom he’d been dealt. It left him confused. Too many choices. Too many avenues. Even too many options in the form of food. It was overwhelming.

He was about to get up and go back to his room, when he heard a faint shuffling coming from down the hallway, which got louder as whoever it was approached their destination. When the person rushed into the kitchen, he registered that it was a girl, and she immediately opened the refrigerator and started digging around, not even bothering with the lights.

_Should I say something?_

Maybe she’d just take what she wanted and leave.

He sat frozen, unsure of what to do, as he didn’t want to scare her, but after a few seconds, she found what she was looking for and quickly searched for the light switch.

“Ma’am,” Bucky croaked. His voice rough from not using it in awhile.

The room lit up as she quickly turned around, alarmed. She took one look at Bucky sitting at the table and dropped the plastic container she was holding.

She then looked down. “MOTHERFUCKER.”

The girl instantly knelt down, looking at the container of chocolate milk, spilling all over the floor. “Oh, nooooooooooo. My precious. We _wants_ it.”

Bucky immediately stood, nervous, holding out his hand and then instantly bringing it back to his side. “I’m, uh ... sorry. So sorry that I scared you.”

She looked up frowning, squinting at him. “Who are you? You’re a blur. I don’t have my contacts or glasses.”

He walked over to the mess, grabbing a roll of paper towels off the kitchen counter. “James Barnes,” he said, quietly, resigned, sure that she would flinch or have some other equally negative reaction to his presence.

“Hm.” She looked back down at the floor, unfazed. “Do you think it would be terrible if I pulled a Cersei Lannister?”

Bucky inclined his head, confused. “Um. I don’t ... understand?”

She then gave a little whimper over the spilled milk and shook her head. “Cersei Lannister ... she tried to drink water that had been spilled on the floor of her prison cell. Nevermind,” she said, taking the offered paper towels.

“I’ve seen people do worse.”

“Hn,” she laughed. “Have you ever seen a woman have three kids with her twin brother?”

That definitely wasn’t what he expected her to say. “Well … no.”

The girl only shrugged and went about her work of cleaning the floor as he stood back, feeling awkward about what to do. Should he help? He was never sure of what action to take anymore, as life was now full of choices. Too many of them.

When she finally stood up and walked to throw a pile of chocolate-soaked paper towels in the trash can, he finally got a good look at her. She was on the shorter side, but carried herself as someone with more height, with confidence. Her hair was long and wavy, loose and tumbling past her shoulders. And she was curvy … very curvy, her sports bra and black leggings accentuating her hour-glass figure. Bucky realized that he’d been introduced to her, weeks ago in a meeting. They'd only briefly nodded at one another, and he had forgotten her name. He hadn’t exactly been thinking of memorizing people’s names or faces at the time, even if they were lovely. From what he understood, she was close friends with Steve, and of course, Jane Foster.

“Are you just coming from the gym?” he asked, wanting to break the uncomfortable silence. It was a bit late, but she was wearing training gear.

She looked in his direction, still squinting, her eyes a warm blue, which contrasted with her dark hair.

“Huh?” She glanced down at her outfit. “Oh. Um, no … these are my pajamas, I guess. I sleep in a sports bra sometimes. Keeps 'em perky. Accepting my life-long fight with gravity while I’m still young.”

“I’m sorry?”

She gave a very attractive crooked smile. “I’ll just let you figure that one out on your own,” she said, turning around, her attention now elsewhere.

He watched her walk over to the vending machines. “Um. What was your name again?”

She punched a button and bent over to retrieve a candy bar. He had to admit that it was quite a nice view.

“Darcy,” she said, as she stared lovingly at her prize, as if it were her only purpose in life. A completed mission. One choice. A whole vending machine full of one choice. This he could understand.

It also occurred to him that her seemingly casual comfort around him gave Bucky a strange sense of relaxation. It made him a bit brave, a tiny bit like his "before the war" self. He smiled slightly. “And if you sleep in a sports bra … then what do you train in?”

“Two sports bras,” she said nonchalantly, as she tore through the wrapper and took a bite of chocolate, her eyes practically rolling back in her head. “Mmmmmmnnnf.”

Bucky’s eyes widened at the positively sinful noises she made as she chewed.

“Er. Maybe I’ll have to try one of those,” he said, a full smile beginning to form at the corner of his mouth. Almost, but not quite.

Darcy looked shocked. “You mean you haven’t tried one of these yet?” she asked, baffled. 

He shook his head.

She gave a shrug, as if to say “your loss.” “It’s a classic combo, man. Peanut butter and chocolate.”

He frowned. “Classic combo?”

“You know, like strawberry and rhubarb, tomato and basil, apple and cinnamon … lime and Corona.”

Bucky tried to remember. “I don’t think I’ve ever tried those.”

Darcy punched the button on the vending machine again, picked up another candy bar, and walked over to the table, setting it right in front of him. “Peanut butter and chocolate,” she said, looking up at him, a crooked grin on her face. “It’s just like sex and love ... another classic combination.”

She caught him off guard. “What?”

Darcy turned to leave. “Peanut butter and chocolate are exactly like sex and love … both fine on their own, but so much better when combined,” she splayed her hands, miming an explosion.

“It’s like, boom,” she said, as she walked out of the kitchen.

“Boom,” he repeated, when she was out of earshot.

**~~::::::...::::::~~**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I'm [@anniemar](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/anniemar) over at Tumblr as well, if you ever wanna hang.


	2. Gathering Intel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy is on another mission. Bucky is curious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, wow, thanks for the amazing reception of my little first chapter. Holy shit. Y'all make me blush. 
> 
> So I just want to give a little context. The Bucky in this fic will be a little broody, but he's not gonna be too dark. For one, I want to keep the story on the lighthearted side, and for two, so many people have done Angst Bucky so much better than I ever could. So in this world, Bucky has already been through the worst of his Winter Soldier deprogramming.

**~~::::::...::::::~~**

* * *

"Come on Jane, I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean to."

"I'm not mad."

Darcy had walked into Jane's lab to find her wrapped up in a blanket in her office chair, staring at her computer … though there wasn't really anything brought up on her screen at the moment. Earlier, Foster had been looking for her, finally finding her in Tony Stark's lair, laughing with him over the scattered parts of his newest project. Jane had given her a sad look and walked away.

"Yes, you are mad," Darcy observed, her hands on her hips. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to science with someone else. It just happened! I mean … he was working on a new suit, and he let me observe. You know how secretive he is about that shit."

Jane rolled her eyes. "Darcy, I don't care, seriously … I'm glad you're keeping busy."

She frowned. "Um. Okay." An idea ran across her brain. _Ding!_ "Hey, it's Friday night … let's get outta here for a little while. Go to the pub, play some darts, sing some songs?"

Her friend sighed. "I don't really feel like going out tonight."

"Come on Janey, you've got to get your mind off of things. Clear your head. Get back to the science life. Nothing clears your head like a few pitchers of beer and maybe a couple bad decisions."

Jane finally cracked a smile. "Clear my head of all reason, more like."

"Exactly. You need some fun. And George Michael. George makes everything better. It's a fact. You like facts. Like alcohol ... it totally _is_ a solution. A literal solution. Scientific fact."

Jane clutched her blanket around her tighter. "Fine. But give me a few hours."

"Yes!" Darcy tried giving her friend a fist-bump, but all she received were a few blinks. "Alright, leave me hanging, it's cool … you have two hours." She turned around and started walking out of the lab. "I'm gonna try and find a few more recruits, as I can see that I'm gonna need back-up for 'operation surly-girl'."

"I'm fine!" she could hear Foster yell from outside the door.

"LIES! All lies …"

* * *

**~~*...*~~**

She found who she was looking for, going over strategies on his tablet in one of the meeting rooms. "Steven Grant!"

He looked up with a grin as she walked through the door. "Hey, Darcy."

"Damn, you look good in that blue shirt … so _tight_ ," Darcy said, as she walked over to where he was sitting, and plopped onto the table next to him, swinging her legs. "You got plans tonight?"

Steve leaned back in his chair. "No plans."

She smiled. "You do now! Operation surly-girl will commence at the pub in two hours. It's officially been four weeks and no thunder … we need to cheer Jane up a bit. Nip this in the bud before she starts the not-showering-phase. We're already knee-deep in the ice-cream-only-phase."

Cap frowned. "Hm. At this point, even I'm starting to get worried." He then looked over and behind Darcy. "How 'bout you, Buck? Feelin' like getting out for a bit?"

Darcy whipped around, seeing the man who'd introduced himself a few nights ago as "James Barnes" … formal, but not bogged down in titles. Not "Bucky", a name she associated with Midwestern farm boys ... and not "Sergeant Barnes" or "The Winter Soldier", and definitely not "Deadly Assassin with the Deadly Ass." It was like, one look at "dat ass" and she was reaching for her smelling salts. It could seriously kill a girl, make her go apoplectic.

He was standing at the opposite end of the room, looking out the window, all broody. It made her want to roll her eyes. Broodiness amongst the Avengers? It's totally never happened before. Ever. How fascinating. "Oh, hey!" she said, casually. "I didn't see you there. Imagine that."

"Dat ass" turned and started to walk towards them slowly, his arms folded across his chest, a blank expression on his face. She looked him up and down, how could a girl not? He was wearing fitted black jeans and a black jacket. Basically, a lot of black … and his shoulder-length dark hair was tied back. Darcy nodded at him. "You owe me some chocolate milk. Or more like, you owe Foster some chocolate milk, seeing as how I was kinda borrowing it."

"What's this?" Steve asked, with a furrowed brow.

Darcy turned back to Cap and shrugged. "I had a hankering for some chocolate the other night. He was there," she waved her hand in his direction. She then tipped her head at him as he walked up. "You coming tonight?"

Bucky didn't answer her, and just stared a hole into Steve's head for a few moments, his jaw clenched. Darcy began to wonder if she'd interrupted something. "I don't know," he said, finally. "How are you gonna get clearance for me to come along on such short notice? And is the security team going to take up the whole place?"

"Daaaayum," Darcy said, quietly. She looked at Cap with a raised eyebrow. "I sense a bit of shade over here."

Steve sighed heavily. "It's just a bar, Bucky. Not a mission."

Darcy shook her head. "Oh, but that's where you're wrong, Steven Grant," she said, putting a finger in his face. "Operation surly-girl is very much a mission."

He gave her a little smile. _Score. Tension abated. A Darcy Lewis specialty._

"We'll be there," Cap said.

"Groovy." Darcy jumped off the table. "I'm gonna go try and find Barton to see if he wants to come. He's my new fave Avenger, I want to buy him a drink."

"Hey!"

She gave Steve a wink, and started to walk towards the door. "Make sure the kitchen is stocked with chocolate for rainy days, and then I'll think about your return to the top spot."

* * *

**~~*...*~~**

Bucky watched Darcy leave the room, not really wanting to look at Steve yet ... and also enjoying the scenery.

"I'm glad you're coming out."

He turned his head, narrowing his eyes. "Did I say that I was?"

Steve looked towards the ceiling. "Bucky, I just need to have a meeting with everyone first, before you can come out on official missions with us. It's part of our agreement."

He nodded. "Sure. And yet the girl who started the domino effect of a genocidal robot completely blowing an ancient city off the map, is a bonafide Avenger."

Steve brought his hands to his face, rubbing it. "Wanda had to …"

" _Don't_." Bucky interrupted. "Don't tell me how much she went through to get to where she is."

His friend's shoulders slumped over and he started to feel his resolve crumble. An old instinct kicked in, something involuntary … Bucky hated to see Steve look defeated, even if it was because of him. "Vision watches her," Steve said, softly.

Bucky gave a tiny laugh. "That's not all he does."

Steve gave him that classic sheepish smile of his. "So you're coming?"

He breathed in deep, still frowning. "I suppose. But you're gonna have to tell me what to expect. I don't like surprises so much these days. What's that girl's story?" he asked, nodding towards the door that Darcy had just walked out of.

"Darcy?"

Bucky rolled his eyes. "Yes, did you see any other girls in here just now? She's … I don't know. She's not afraid of me. And she's very …" he couldn't quite find the word he was looking for.

"Suggestive?" Steve grinned.

He nodded. "Sure. Suggestive."

His friend shook his head, smiling. "She's like that with everyone. Don't take any of it to heart."

Bucky frowned. "I didn't … I just … I don't expect her reactions, and I can usually get a read on anyone, from the start. It's a little … strange."

Steve leaned back in his chair, eyeing him. "Darcy doesn't scare easily. In all honestly, I'm not sure that I've ever seen her _scared,_ exactly. She's been through a lot, and has definitely seen battle, on another level than what we're mostly used to, running in the circles that she does."

"Thor's?"

"Yes. That's one." Steve shook his head. "In the last few years, I've seen things that I still can't quite believe, but somehow she's gotten to the point where nothing surprises her anymore. I used to think it was sad, like she'd become so jaded at such a young age, but now I'm beginning to think of it as more of a gift."

Bucky inclined his head. "Hmm. You like her?"

Steve laughed. "Me? No. Well … it's hard not to like her, but no. I don't think of her in that way. She's just a dear friend."

"Hm." Bucky wasn't convinced.

His friend held up his hands. "Seriously, Buck. I'll admit, that the thought has run across my mind, as I mean, look at her, she's every kid's fantasy … at least the ones we grew up with anyway … but she's flirtatious with everyone, so it's hard to know what's actually going through her head. And she's hardly ever serious, even in the face of danger, which can be very unexpected, being around such serious people and serious situations all the damn time."

"Sounds annoying."

Steve laughed. "Nah. She's kinda like Sam. He has a way of making people feel at ease. She does the same thing … she makes the sad sacks around here laugh every once in awhile."

"Sounds annoying," Bucky repeated, and he wanted to mean it, but wasn't so sure that he did. She sounded like a girl who could really break a guy's heart. That was the annoying part, he realized.

**~~::::::...::::::~~**

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: Party time.


	3. Brewing attraction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy tries to break Bucky out of his shell a bit. Bucky discovers our nation's obsession with flavored-vodka, and he's not so sure he likes it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going back to my roots with this chapter ;-) Karaoke. George Michael (or Wham) to be specific. Song in the chapter is Careless Whisper (though Darcy changes the lyrics up a bit), it's about one of the best songs ever recorded. God bless George. If you're not familiar with it, Spotify that shit, you won't be disappointed.

 

**~~::::::...::::::~~**

* * *

"Jane's mad at me," Darcy said, nodding to her friend at the bar, who'd been tasked with procuring the next round.

She was seated at a corner table with Steve and Bucky, hanging out at a college-type bar in the nearest town from the Avengers facility. It was situated on the main drag that consisted of a few mom-and-pop shops, restaurants, and pubs. This one in particular was their favorite, as it had cheap drinks, darts, pool, and weekend karaoke. That, and people tended to leave them alone, not having figured out yet that Earth's mightiest heroes happened to be regulars.

Darcy had noticed that Steve shadowed poor Bucky pretty much everywhere he went, even leading him to the men's room when he asked where it was. She understood that Cap didn't want to let him out of his sight, but he was acting like an over-protective helicopter-dad. He also seemed worried that everyone would be uncomfortable around his long lost bro, but she and Jane understood that most of their friends seemed to be in various stages of recovery from some traumatic experience or other ... and Clint and Natasha acted completely normal around him, or at least, normal for them. The two had wandered off to the dart boards to continue a never-ending battle between spysassins, which had been going on for weeks, since neither one of them seemed to be beatable.

Steve took a sip of the beer he was nursing. "Why is she mad at you?" he asked, from behind a pair of needless horn-rimmed glasses. Needless because he had beyond perfect sight, but worn in an attempt to be less recognizable in public. The spectacles, plus the recent scruff he'd been sporting, usually worked out for him. Darcy thought it was a good look. A _very_ good look.

She downed the rest of the beer in her glass. "Jane's just been agitated. She's worried about Thor, but then also angry at him … and she doesn't want to admit it."

Steve nodded. "That's understandable, but that doesn't explain why you think she's mad at you."

Darcy took a deep breath. "She's projecting. And uh, Jane kinda caught me sciencing with someone else," she said quickly, looking into her empty glass.

"Darcy!" Steve said with a mocking voice, and sitting next to him, Bucky just looked kind of blank. She wasn't sure if he was even listening.

She rolled her eyes. "I know, I know … how could I, right? But she hasn't actually done any real work in like, two weeks. I was getting antsy and I needed it … and shit, I only helped Tony with a few things."

Steve laughed. "But you have your own work, Darcy, and a lot of that involves Tony … why would she be upset?"

"Solidarity. In times like these, I'm supposed to wallow right along with her, like before in London, when Thor was gone for like, two years … but that's when I was her 'intern'," she said, giving the universal sign of quotation marks with her fingers. "Truth be told, I was so bored the last time, that I went out and got another intern just to have someone to talk to."

"What about Erik?"

She fiddled around with her glass. "That was during Erik's naked phase … he was busy running around ancient ruins and getting arrested."

"Oh. Yeah, I heard about that," he smirked.

"See?" she said, nodding at Bucky, the about-half-pitcher of beer she'd drank, making the words tumble off her tongue too easily. "You're not the only one with colorful friends."

Barnes looked up. "If that's a shot at me you're takin', it's off the mark," he said, finally speaking. "I've done my fair share, and I may have gone off the reservation a few times, but never naked."

 _So he_ had _been paying attention._

Darcy pursed her lips. "Pity." Seeing "dat ass" on BBC News instead of Erik's, would have made for much nicer viewing.

Jane then came back to the table, armed with a fresh pitcher and a tray with several lemon-drop shots.

"You don't need to get me shots, Jane," Cap said, looking up at her.

She shrugged. "Don't want you to feel left out," she said, glancing at Darcy.

Darcy caught onto the jab, but kept her mouth shut for about the third ever time in her whole entire life.

Bucky frowned at the shot glass that Jane passed over to him, containing clear liquor, and the accompanying lemon slices and sugar packets. "What are they?"

"They're just vodka shots with lemon and sugar," Jane said. "Don't worry, it's the good stuff, it's not well."

He looked at her as if she were speaking gibberish. "If it's the good stuff, then why ruin it with all this?"

Both Jane and Darcy ignored him and ripped open their sugar packets, figuring it was better to show than to tell. They licked the fleshy area of their hands between thumb and index finger and sprinkled sugar onto their skin.

"Because it's fun," Darcy said, holding her sugared hand up to Bucky, "Here. Lick it off."

He only looked at her hand like it was an alien object.

She waved it around a bit, under his nose. "My hand's clean … just lick. The alcohol will kill any girl cooties."

Bucky continued to blink in confusion as another hand reached down, and grabbed Darcy by the wrist. Clint then brought the sugared area to his mouth and licked it for him.

"Barnes," he said, with a click of his tongue, "when a lady tells you to lick, you lick."

Darcy looked at her hand and smirked up at him. "And you got all of it. My my, Hawkeye, what nice aim you have."

"It's all in the follow-through," he winked, picking up a shot. "Cheers."

Darcy and Jane both clinked his glass with theirs and downed the shots, then picked up a lemon slice to suck out the flavor.

Bucky picked up his shot and knocked it back, neat, as if it was nothing but water. "That's not the good stuff," he said grumpily, as he set his glass rather forcefully back down on the table.

"It's Absolut," Jane said, looking a bit offended.

"Pay no mind," Darcy told her friend. "He's just used to vodka that's distilled with nectar from Mother Russia's tit."

Steve looked worried that his friend wouldn't take kindly to her observation, but Barnes only raised an eyebrow, as if he couldn't decide if he wanted to be insulted.

Jane gave a little laugh and looked over at Bucky. "I can get you something else? They have Ketel One. Would you want a vodka martini? Those are pretty good."

Darcy nodded, looking at him. "You should totally get one. But only if you go up there with her and tell the bartender … 'the name's Barnes … _James_ Barnes'."

"Er," Bucky scowled, looking between the two girls.

" _Shaken_. Not stirred," Darcy continued.

Jane shot her a glare. "Would you stop teasing him with references he won't get?"

"What? It's fun. Teasing Vision sucks because he'll just internally scan the internet looking for answers, and he ends up knowing things about pop culture references that even I don't know. Steve and Thor are pretty much acclimated … and Loki … retaliates."

"You egg him on."

"If you're talking about the time he short-circuited some of your equipment with an energy blast, that wasn't my fault … he asked me to do it."

Jane shook her head. "He did not ask you to call him a Frost Giant."

"Yes he did. I will quote him, verbatim … he said, 'call me Frosty the Giant one more time."

Her friend rolled her eyes and blew an unruly lock of hair out of her face.

"Don't mind her Bucky," Steve said. "She did the same thing to me. When we met, she asked me if 'Born on the Fourth of July' was my favorite movie … and when I asked her to watch it with me, she said, 'hell no, I don't actively seek out Tom Cruise movies.'"

Darcy shrugged. "We watched 'Independence Day' instead … I prefer alien movies to Tom Cruise movies, though I suppose I could be talked into watching a Tom Cruise alien movie."

Clint then put his hand on Jane's shoulder. "Hey, we need two more people for a game of darts that me and Nat have going on, come on … let's go throw things, you'll feel better."

Jane sighed. "It's no fun playing with you guys, I can't compete."

"It's cool, we'll just throw left-handed."

"You're ambidextrous."

"Well … then you can be on my team."

Steve smiled, standing up. "I'll team up with Nat … I'm good with the shield, but not so much with darts, it'll even things out."

Jane shrugged and got up, walking with Clint over to Natasha and the dart boards.

Before joining the others, Steve turned to Bucky. "You alright without me for a few minutes?"

Bucky just sat there, not answering, but he gave Darcy a look that said, " _I can't even with this guy_."

She gave Cap a wink and a smile. "We're alright, Steven Grant. Go crush Hawkeye."

After they were left alone, they sat in silence for a few moments before Darcy poured herself another beer. She wasn't normally at a loss for words, but she didn't quite know what to say to Bucky, which was different. He sat there with his blue-grey eyes, staring at a circle of water on the table, left by the condensation from a glass of beer. He was a bit of a ghost ... there, but not really. Her eye also couldn't help but be drawn to his gloved hand, his cybernetic arm hidden beneath his black jacket that he refused to take off. It broke her heart a little. Out of the few times she'd been in his vicinity, he'd had his prosthetic covered, and she wished he felt comfortable enough around everyone to flaunt that shit. And normally, Darcy was pretty damn good at bringing people out of their shell, but the way he had his hair down, untied from before, was making her a bit tongue-tied, now that it was just the two of them. It was hanging in front of his face like he was hiding behind it, a vibrant brown with tiny lighter highlighs, usually something you could only achieve from out of a box of color or a salon chair. What was it with dudes who didn't even have to try? It wasn't fair. Like Cap's eyelashes. She'd never seen lashes so long without the use of lengthening-mascara.

Bucky finally broke the silence. "What's all that?" he asked softly, nodding towards the tiny stage in the corner. Two hipsters who didn't seem as if they saw that much sun, sang "Summer Lovin', for what Darcy liked to describe as the "ironic karaoke hour".

"Karaoke. Ever heard of it?"

He shook his head.

She decided not to tease him for his lack of knowledge … _yet_. She had a strange urge to make him feel comfortable. "It's just people singing pop songs to a pre-recorded track. Some folks really get into it, but these guys are just having fun. It's like, they take the cheesiest song ever and act like it's profound."

"Is this something you do?"

Darcy grinned. "Oh, hell yeah. But I need at least four more vodka shots before I can request a song."

She then noticed that he looked over to Steve briefly, hanging out near the dart boards. Darcy turned around to see Cap watching them, as Natasha had her turn. He winked at her.

"He likes you," Bucky said, observing, as he took a sip of his beer.

She turned back around and rolled her eyes. _Ugh, not another one._ "No, he doesn't."

He picked up the pitcher to top off his drink. "You sayin' you know him better than I do?"

Darcy shook her head. "Not at all, what I'm sayin' is that he doesn't have those feelings for me, and if he thinks he does, he's got his streams crossed."

"Streams crossed?"

"Ask me why I don't wear red lipstick around him."

He gave a noncommittal shrug. "I dunno."

"It's because I like it when he calls me by my own name … and not Peggy."

"Oh," he said, frowning, perhaps realizing that he was wrong after all.

"And anyway,' she continued. "I knew Peggy since I was born … it would feel wrong … like, I was macking on her man, or something. Even though the situation was unique, to say the least, and they didn't end up together … it would still be weird."

He looked at her with interest. "You knew Peggy?"

Darcy nodded, figuring she might as well confide in him. She didn't do it often, but she found herself wanting to open up. It had always helped Cap to feel comfortable, if she was real with him every once in awhile. "Yeah," she said. "The founders of S.H.I.E.L.D., the Carters, Starks, and Philips', and some others … they were all one big family. We're all pretty close. Not too many of us left though."

He inclined his head. "You're related to a founder of S.H.I.E.L.D.? Who?"

She shrugged. "Chester Phillips was my great-grandfather ... but I never met him. He died before I was born."

Bucky laughed, obviously surprised. He even grinned from ear to ear, showing off a gut-wrenchingly attractive smile, something she'd never seen before.

_It's a good look._

"Makes sense," he said, chuckling. "You remind me of him."

Darcy shook her head, nearly blushing. "That's not the first time I've heard that … please tell me I don't look like him, too."

He sat back in his chair, looking her over. "Oh no, nothin' like him, dollface. I had no idea you were related to the guy."

_Dollface?_

She looked down, the back of her neck warm. _Weird_. "Well, I don't really go around announcing it everywhere."

"So 'the life', it's in your blood."

"Nah, I'm on the sidelines these days. I'm not a spysassin or a superhero, but I can hack into any computer system or mainframe in world, and not leave a trace."

He opened his mouth to say something, but the four dart players came back to the table, taking their seats.

"That was quick," Darcy said, wishing their game had gone on a little longer.

Jane beamed. "We won! Clint made every shot."

" _No way_ ," Darcy said, as she watched Bucky take a big gulp of his drink. He didn't look completely miserable anymore, but he didn't look like he was having that much fun either. It was a dangerous combination, because it made for perfect conditions for her to relentlessly tease. She couldn't help it. She was a bit evil like that.

She looked at him with a glint of mischief in her eye. "Hey, so is it true that you were named after President James Buchanan? Like, that was a thing? … people really did that back in the day? Named their kids after presidents?"

He frowned, as if he was trying to remember a long lost time. "Um. Yes. My folks were immigrants, they wanted me to have a strong American name."

She grinned. "So if you have a son one of these days, would you feel morally obligated to keep the tradition alive?"

"Um."

"Like, you should totally name your son Barack Obama Barnes."

"Darcy," Jane said, as if she were a two-year-old playing with matches. And perhaps her friend wasn't far off.

"What? Barack Obama is a strong American name."

* * *

**~~*...*~~**

As the evening went on, Darcy got it in her head that Bucky needed to try flavored vodkas, something she said was one of the 'greatest innovations of our times'. She kept bringing him shot after shot, each worse than the last. After he downed the most recent one, he visibly cringed like a teenager tasting their first alcoholic drink.

She only laughed. "Come on man, whipped cream vodka is the best thing ever invented. It makes pretty yummy jello shots, too."

Bucky wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Why all the flavors? What was the last one … pepper? What happened to vodka-flavored vodka?"

"Variety is the spice of life, James Buchanan," she said, as she got up from the table, and walked over to the guy running the horrible music. Like the vodka, each song was worse than the last, as the patrons of the bar got drunker, and their singing became more and more off-key, and yet louder.

"What's she doing?" he asked, watching Darcy laugh as she talked to the D.J. He noticed that she looked like an absolute dish in her snug jeans and black low-cut top, accentuating all of his favorite parts on a woman … and she had _very_ nice parts. It brought back flashes of the girls he used to know, long-gone girls he used to be good with … talents that had been suppressed for God knows how long. Feelings were beginning to come back, and they felt like a limb that had been asleep for so long, that now he was suffering from pins and needles … very uncomfortable, and yet somehow revitalized.

Jane looked over at her friend on stage and smiled. "She's gonna sing a George Michael song."

"It's the only kinda songs that she sings," Clint said. "What's it gonna be this time, Foster? 'Freedom'? 'I Want Your Sex'?"

"I hope it's not that one," she said.

"Why? I like it when she sings that one."

"That's because she doesn't embarrass you by dedicating it to you, she always dedicates it to me."

"I see no problem with that."

Bucky observed as Darcy was handed a microphone, and slow lounge-type music began to play in the background. During the intro, she looked over to their corner table.

"Oh, sweet Jesus," Jane said, with a red face, her hands on her cheeks.

Darcy grinned, all attention on Foster. "I want to dedicate this song to the love of my life, Jane motherfucking Foster … and if you could just find it in your heart to forgive me, I know that we can make it, baby. For the long haul. You and me. Sciencing forever."

Bucky could only blink and take another big gulp of his drink. He wasn't sure how, but she'd said everything with a completely straight face … the only tip that she was having a laugh, was the exaggerated hand movements she was making, a fist over her heart, like she was about to perform a heart-wrenching ballad.

Darcy then started to sing, quite well, surprisingly enough. " _I feel so unsure, as I take your hand and lead you to the lab floor. As the music dies, something in your eyes, calls to mind the silver screen … and all the sad goodbyes_."

"Oh, God, she's singing _Careless Whisper_ ," Jane groaned, behind a huge embarrassed smile.

"She's not messing around, breaking out the big guns," Natasha said, with a smirk, drinking from a flask.

Steve leaned forward. "I don't think I've heard this one."

" _I'm never gonna science again, guilty brains have got no rhythm. Though it's easy to pretend, I know you're not a fool. I should have known better than to cheat a friend, a wasted chance that I've been given. So I'm never gonna science again … the way I science with yoooooou."_

Jane was doubled over the table, laughing.

"Is that what the song really says? ' _I'm never gonna science again_ '?" Steve looked at his friends, confused.

Clint shook his head at him. "Get to know your George Michael, Rogers. It's really 'I'm never gonna _dance_ again _,_ guilty _feet_ have got no rhythm'."

"Oh," he said, frowning. It led Bucky to wonder if Darcy had never sang about dancing around him, for a reason.

" _Tonight the music seems so loud, I wish that we could lose this crowd. Maybe it's better this way, we'd hurt each other with the things we want to say. We could have been so good together … we could have lived this SCIENCE forever."_ She closed her eyes and held out her hand, then closed her fist. " _Now who's gonna science with meeeeeee_."

Bucky looked around the table and everyone was in stitches. Clint put his arm around Jane. "You should forgive her, Foster," he said, rubbing her back. "For science."

Jane sat up, unable to speak, she was laughing so hard, and tears were even beginning to stream from her eyes. Bucky looked over at Darcy to see the beaming smile on her face as she wrapped up her song. It was the smile of someone who had met their goal. She'd cheered her friend up. Mission accomplished. And not just for Jane, but for the whole group.

Bucky picked up a shot of vodka, the last in the series of shots that Darcy had brought over. He shrugged, knocked it back, and promptly gagged. A series of Russian expletives came out of his mouth … he'd tried to curb the habit, but couldn't help it. Natasha looked over and shook her head, a sly smile painted on her face.

"What the hell is that?" he choked.

"Coconut Stoli!" Jane said, behind her laughter.

"Dear God, why?"

Natasha then handed over the flask that she'd hidden away in her jacket. The good stuff. Bucky accepted it with a nod.

He took a grateful sip. _There it is_.

For the first time in decades, he found himself surrounded by people who were laughing and sharing company out of a genuine affection towards each other, a group of friends rallying around one of their own, trying to cheer her up. A distant memory flashed in his mind, friends, music, blowing off steam … but those people weren't here any longer. The feeling was the same, but the people were different. No, Steve was there.

 _Steve is here_.

Bucky looked up at him … he seemed to be sharing the same sort of memory. Different people, same feeling, and he felt lucky enough to make it this far, to be here for it.

He shook his head and took another sip of the good stuff, wincing, but not because of the vodka ... because of the feelings.

* * *

**~~*...*~~**

On the way home, Darcy looked out the window of their private car with glassy eyes. Clint was in the front seat with a sleeping Jane in his lap, and Natasha had caught a ride with Steve on his bike. It left Bucky alone in the back seat with Chester Phillips' great-granddaughter, of all people. He had to admit that he didn't find her antics annoying at all, but comforting. Her teasing and sarcastic nature reminded him of old friends, the ones he still had trouble remembering. And he'd called her 'dollface' ... the word just tumbled out of his mouth, like a language he'd forgotten he'd known. Casual flirtation. "Before the war" Bucky making an unannounced appearance.

She turned to him. "We should be best friends, James Buchanan," she slurred slightly.

Though the flavored-vodkas were disgusting, they still did a pretty good job at getting him sauced. An old smirk was able to form on his lips. "Oh yeah? Why's that."

She looked back out the window, a bit wistful. "Because that's what we are. In the story of Captain America, greatest hero of our times, and Jane Foster, famous Nobel Prize-winning scientist, and a god's one true love … that's what we are. We're the classic best friends. We're the sidekicks."

She looked up at him and smiled. "We should be the main characters in our own story. We're badass like that."

He inclined his head, smiling right back at her. "What kind of story would it be?"

"I don't know yet, I guess we'll see."

Bucky didn't attempt to move her, when she soon fell asleep like Jane, leaning on his shoulder.

**~~::::::...::::::~~**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I want to thank everyone for your kind words about my little Wintershock story, and I want to especially thank my readers who have followed me over from Tasertricks, taking a chance on a new ship. And though I feel vaguely guilty for getting you to cheat on your OTP, I actually kinda don't ... because misery loves company ;-)
> 
> In the next chapter I'll delve further into our fave tropes.


	4. Forced travel companions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which our girl and our guy travel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for leaving this for a minute. I promised to work on another fic before coming back to this one. 
> 
> So we're getting into some of the meat of the story. Just for some context, the fic takes place after Bucky's deprogramming like I've mentioned before, so this world would be post-Civil War and post-Ragnarok ... if all my dreams came true and Cap & Tony make up (with no collateral damage), and Darcy is in the next Thor movie (taking a trip to Asgard). Also, they're not major players, but I've added some X-Men into the story because I can ;-) That's the beauty of fanfic.

**~~::::::...::::::~~**

* * *

Darcy fiddled around in a fancy office chair during an Avengers meeting. Everyone was talking about a mission that she wouldn't be going on, so her attention happened to be elsewhere. Mainly in the sewers with a rat who was an expert in martial arts and his pizza-eating protégés. While doodling an impressive scene of the Ninja Turtles, she was brought out of her scribbling meditation by Tony Stark, standing at the head of the long meeting-room table, where a gathering of "Earth's Mightiest" were seated.

"Hey, Michelangelo … we're going to need you on a little side-mission while we attempt to help Coulson out with a little Inhuman trouble."

Darcy's head snapped up. "Wait … what? Why am I Michaelangelo?"

Tony's eyebrow popped up. " _Dude_."

She rolled her eyes. "Fine. I'm Michelangelo. What do you need?"

"We need someone in Quebec to check on that potential rogue mutant you found."

 _Ugh_. She hated it when she shot herself in the foot with her uncanny skill at uncovering closet mutants and people with supernatural abilities … and every once in awhile, secret aliens. Being able to hack into anything, such as hospital records and medical files that were covered up, had its pluses and minuses. "What? No, Tony, please. He's a skier, he's harmless. Anyway, I hate going where it's cold. Send Vision, he's better at the sensitive stuff. And he likes the snow."

"The snow is quite fascinating," Vision said calmly, from his spot at Tony's right hand.

"Nice try, but nope. We need Vision with us. And this kid needs to be persuaded to stop winning all those competitions with his superpowers … or it's going to start something. But since he's Canadian, we have no authority over him, so we can't legally _make_ him register … but you can and will, convince him to start being more discreet."

"I'm so over this crap, Tony. He's just a kid."

"He's a kid that's winning a little too much. Soon enough, the wrong people will start noticing ... he needs to stop attracting attention to himself."

"Says the biggest attention-seeker in the room," she muttered under her breath.

"I heard that. And it's either the olympic-hopeful in Canada, or you can come with us and work with Skye."

She raised her finger. "Ya know? "I think I'll just go to my room and find my parka."

"Thanks, Darcy," Steve said, with a little grin. "And Bucky can go with you, for security."

That took her by surprise. Usually someone much less, well, noteworthy, went with her as security on such excursions. "What? No. Why take a gun, or like, a rocket launcher to a knife fight? Or not even that, a nerf fight. That's unnecessary … Jane can come with me."

From across the table, Bucky scowled. "I can handle going with you guys," he said, looking at Steve.

Tony shook his head. "You want to start going on missions? You got one, pal. Baby steps. Make sure Shorty gets back in one piece, which is actually a lot harder than it seems … and we'll think about putting you on bigger projects."

"Thanks a lot," Darcy mumbled.

He inclined his head. "You disappeared for a day … last month, after a mission."

She shrugged. "No, I didn't. I just went to a show and didn't feel like telling anyone. I am allowed. I am a grown-up." She looked down at her Ninja Turtle drawing. "Okay, maybe not a grown-up, but I now have as many degrees as Foster, which means I get to wear my big-girl panties and do big-girl things. Like go to concerts if I want."

Tony looked perplexed. Darcy didn't like making him look that way, but she had a knack for it. "We can talk about that later, but you know you're supposed to have security with you at public events."

She looked down. "I can't enjoy myself when I know some faceless agent is staring at me from afar. It ruins the moment."

"Hey," Steve said. "You never know what's going to happen. I'd feel better about you going up there, if I knew you'd be completely protected. And with Bucky, you will be."

Darcy rolled her eyes. At Captain fucking America. "Oh my God, he's a kid. He skis a little too fast, he's not making an army abominable snowmen up there." She hated it when Tony and Steve agreed on something, and not only that, but ganged up on her.

"Then it should be an easy job," Tony said. "And who better to hit the slopes with, than someone called the Winter Soldier. Alright, let's get out of here, I want to be back in time to watch the game."

Darcy looked over to see Bucky looking down into his lap with a frown, hair falling around his face like a curtain to shut out the world … and she all of a sudden felt bad. She was being a brat about the whole thing, and she knew it.

She changed her tone to something a bit lighter. "That was a totally lame Winter Soldier joke, Anthony Edward," she said. "I'm not sure how, but it was even worse than all those 'winter is coming' comments. But seriously, if you want to harass this Canadian kid so bad, why don't you do it?"

He gave her a smug little smile. "Because there must always be a Stark in Winterfell."

She groaned. _I totally had that one coming_. "Yeah, and now I have to go north of The Wall, where winter already came."

Darcy caught Bucky's eye as he looked up, thinking that maybe she saw the tiniest of smirks.

* * *

**~~*...*~~**

Darcy was in her room packing, throwing a few things together before she and Barnes were supposed to get on a jet together, heading north into the icy realm of Canada-heim.

Truth be told, Darcy had been avoiding Bucky over the past few weeks, after their night out, drinking an embarrassing amount of flavored-vodka. At the time, it had seemed like a good idea (as these things usually do when alcohol was involved), teasing him and trying to get him to lighten up … but she thought she may have taken it a bit too far. She always had a knack for that … especially starting at about a half-pitcher in.

She was worried that he thought she was a total weirdo … singing on stage like that. To Jane. She shook her head every time she thought about it, internally cringing.

_I'm never gonna science again?_

_More like, I'm never gonna show my face again._

But in the end, she had to. After waking up the next day, with the hangover from hell, thanks to all the shitty vodka … she'd gone into the community kitchen, in order to snag some orange juice, armed in a pair of sunglasses. Tony, of course, had to be there, taking advantage of the space-age espresso machine.

His mouth twitched into a smile. "So, I've heard that you're never gonna science again. I feel like a homewrecker."

She'd snapped off the top of the OJ and knocked back three Advil, before taking a big swig from the bottle. "Who told?"

"Who do you think?" he said, with a wink.

"I'll kill him."

"But I thought he was your new favorite Avenger."

"He told you that, too? Good job, Barton, you lasted a week."

Tony smiled. "So is it me again? It's me again, isn't it."

She tapped her finger to her lips. "Ya know? I'm kinda tired of all y'all. I'm going with the new guy."

He frowned. "Wilson? Lang?"

"Nah, 'Dat Ass'."

Tony chuckled. "Who doesn't have a great ass who lives in this building?"

She gave a little laugh before turning to exit the kitchen. "Anthony Edward, there can only be one … 'dat ass' that rules them all, which can only be destroyed in the fiery pits of Mordor. And that belongs to Barnes … _shit_."

She'd almost bumped into a pair of righteous pecs. Steve and Bucky walked in, just as she meant to hightail it out of there, promptly go back to her apartment, and fall back into bed in a fetal position.

"Well, this is awkward," Tony said, his eyes gleaming.

"You feeling alright?" Steve asked, after getting a look at her sunglasses and wild mane of hair.

Darcy took a deep breath and reached over to give him a pat on the shoulder, though she was hungover enough that she misfired and ended up patting one of his aforementioned pectorals. _Oops_. "Steven Grant, just be glad you'll never have to experience the human condition known as being hung-over after a night of bad decisions. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a bed to get back to, and maybe a bit of kneeling to the porcelain god. Later." And she'd jetted, not even looking at Bucky, embarrassment feeling like a fiery blanket wrapping around her.

Once outside in the hall, she could hear Steve ask who the porcelain god was, and she'd been glad that she didn't hear the response, if there was one.

She was broken out of her cringey thoughts by Jane knocking on her bedroom door frame. "You gonna be alright? I'm sure I can finagle my way into coming with you guys, if you want."

Darcy took her glasses off and rubbed at her eyes. "It's fine. I know you've got a lot of work to do. And plus, I know you want to stick around in case, you know, it thunders."

Jane walked further into the room and sat down on the bed. "You're doing the eye-rubbing thing, Darcy. You're nervous. Why are you nervous? You've gone on dozens of these little side-missions now. You know they'd never send you into something too dangerous. Especially if only one of them is going with you."

Darcy sighed. "I was just looking forward to spending the weekend with my current lover."

"What? Who's that?"

"Netflix."

"Really?"

"Plus, those tickets go on sale Saturday morning."

Jane rolled her eyes. "No. You can order the tickets from anywhere. You're nervous about Barnes. You forget, I know you."

Darcy sat on the bed next to her. "It's hard to talk to him."

"You're the only one I've seen, besides Steve, who's gotten more than a sentence or two out of him."

"Yeah … maybe, but I can only make up so many questions and subjects to talk about in my head. I'll run out after a while, and then the awkward silences will begin. I hate awkward silences. So I started writing a list of possible talking points. And then … there's the fact that he probably thinks I'm the world's biggest idiot, after that whole "Careless Whisper" declare-my-love-to-my-best-friend-song."

Jane laughed. "You don't think he understands loving friendships?"

She shrugged. "Touché."

"You shouldn't be embarrassed by the song. Everyone had a great time. It was funny."

"Yeah, _you_ guys thought it was funny … but I know you guys. I don't really know him. I mean, can anyone really know that guy? But what I _do_ know, is that he probably thinks I am off my rocker. Plus … I'm not sure, but he might have heard me tell Tony that I think he's got a nice ass."

Jane did a double-take. "What?"

Darcy grimaced. "It was a whole thing. I was hung over. I was just kidding. Sort of. Not really."

Jane pursed her lips in thought. "He does have a pretty great ass."

"I know, right?"

"But Darcy, you say that kind of stuff all the time."

"He doesn't know that."

Foster frowned. "Why are you so worried about what he thinks? You never care what people th- … ooooohhhh, I get it now."

"What?"

Jane raised a finely groomed brow. "You like him."

Darcy looked at her in shock. "Don't be ridiculous."

"Then why do you care so much?"

"It's just gonna be a swell old time. And by swell, I mean awkward as fuck. Nothing to talk about, hence, the list," she said, waving at her little notebook sitting on the end of the bed.

Jane picked it up and frowned. "'How do you feel about Magneto'?"

Darcy shrugged. "It's a valid question for a guy with a metal arm."

"'What's your favorite preparation of potatoes'?"

"It says a lot about a person."

"'The Beatles or the Rolling Stones'? Darcy, he might not even know who they are."

"Then his life is a lot sadder than I thought."

"'Does the Furiosa character in Mad Max make you come in your pants?'"

Darcy held up her hands. "What? She has a metal arm and shares his love of applying eye-liner all over his face.

"Darcy, please do not ask him that question … unless I am there."

* * *

**~~*...*~~**

While Bucky piloted the jet on the way to Quebec, he went over the assignment in his head over and over again. The layout of the area. The specifics on where they'd be staying. The mutant kid's file. It had been awhile since he'd been given a mission, and a first from the Avengers ... and was alarmed to realize that it almost gave him a sense of peace, even if it was just a relatively benign operation. He was to let Darcy take the lead with the subject, she knew the protocol. He was supposed to make sure she was safe, even if she railed against it. He'd asked Steve why they were so concerned, as there was obviously something they weren't telling him, but he only told Bucky that she liked to evade her security at times, going off on her own. It was obvious that both Steve and Stark worried after her. Why that was, was still a mystery … but Bucky wasn't the type to keep needling after it was obvious they didn't want to explain further. He was apparently on a need-to-know basis. He was to carry out the mission with the information given to him, and he intended to. The other tiny details didn't matter. Trouble was, he wasn't sure if that type of single-mindedness stemmed from his own personality or the Winter Soldier's.

Both he and Darcy had been quiet the whole way there, as he manned the plane while she stared at her tablet, laughing at what she was reading every once in awhile. Bucky would be lying if he said he wasn't curious as to what was so funny, but he let her keep her distance. He knew that she didn't want to be going on the trip, and he knew that she didn't exactly want him going with her … but if having a reluctant travel companion was a stepping-stone to something more substantial, then so be it. He'd certainly had much worse company.

It was only supposed to be an overnight job, so the accommodations weren't too luxurious, though they were nothing like the tiny and stale underground bunkers he'd been used to. The potential rogue mutant had been attending a ski camp at one of Canada's northern-most resorts, so he and Darcy would be staying in a cabin nestled in the mountains, where one could wake up in the morning and ski right to the main lodge if one wanted to, and also had a clearing nearby for the jet.

The cabin had two bedrooms, thank goodness for that, as they didn't need things to be even more strained and awkward. As soon as Darcy entered the rather-picturesque little cottage, she blasted the heat and began to set up her laptop and little gadgets, in order to find a good internet connection. The main room boasted a huge fireplace along with a comfortable couch and an easy chair, and the kitchenette had all the tools one would need for a week in the cold. A tea kettle, coffee maker, ceramic mugs, and a little gas stove. There were even essentials stacked in the refrigerator … bottled water, apple cider, and supplies for hot chocolate. Whoever built and furnished the place definitely didn't have espionage in mind when they designed it. It was too damn romantic. It led Bucky to wonder what his "before-the-war" self would have been doing with a girl in such a place, and found his mind wandering to rather ridiculous places … like what would happen if there had only been one bedroom.

_You'd be on the couch, asshole. That's where you'd be._

After Darcy threw the rest of her stuff in the room she picked, she decided that she just wanted to get it over with, and they left to go find the boy. They had already figured out his schedule and knew that he'd be having lunch at the main lodge. When she located him, obviously a loner sitting at a table by himself, she slid in the seat across from him. Bucky picked up a chair and sat behind her, to give the appearance that she was official and had protection, even though Darcy had been right … the "potential rogue" couldn't have been more than fourteen years old. He looked harmless … a bit too skinny, with wispy blonde hair, and a nose that he'd need to grow into … certainly not threatening. But looks, at times, could be quite deceiving.

The kid looked up from his meal, surprised.

"Hi there, Jean-Paul," Darcy said, with a sickly-sweet smile, picking up a piece of his bread and tearing herself off a bite.

The kid looked around the room and then back at Darcy. "Are you a coach here?"

She shook her head. "Nope."

"How do you know my name?"

She gave him a nod. "You've been drawing attention to yourself. A lot of people know your name."

The kid didn't look shocked by her answer … or even all that scared. He gave her an indignant look. "Why, because I'm good? It's not a crime, you know … to be good."

Darcy raised an eyebrow. "No, it's not a crime, per se, because there are no laws written that say you can't use your mutant abilities to win races, but it's not exactly ethical, sort of like performance-enhancing drugs. And other mutants probably wouldn't want you to attract so much attention, enough so they are scrutinized to the point of getting themselves written into laws. Because once a tiny little law is written, it opens up the door to much bigger issues."

He squinted at her, looking back at Bucky, and showing for the first time, a look of alarm. "What kind of issues?"

She tore off another piece of bread. "The possibilities of human interference are endless … like, should mutants be able to work wherever they want? Go to school wherever they want? Should mutants be able to marry non-mutants? Should there be a universal registration? Is it an issue for the state, or should it be the decision of a larger international body, composed of mostly non-mutants? It's not a can of worms that most of your people want to open. Some will go to great lengths to ensure that it never does."

He looked down at his half-eaten chicken sandwich. "Oh."

"You also don't want an organization worse than mine contacting you. They might not be so nice."

Jean-Paul looked back up. "What's your organization?"

"That's classified."

"You're American?"

"Classified."

He went back to his indignant look. "If you can't tell me anything, then why should I listen to you?"

"I'm glad you asked." Darcy took out a tablet from her purse and touched a few buttons, bringing up the boy's profile. She turned it to show him. "Because, Jean-Paul Beaubier, we know everything about you. Your whole story. Your adoption records, school records, your medical records, your cell phone records, and each and every habit, down to your preference for rap music over rock music. I can honestly tell you that my organization only observes. For now. We do not intercede unless there are no other options. But others might. Others may want to use your gifts for their personal gain, whether you are willing or not. You are on a radar that you put yourself on. My advice to you, which at the moment is still advice, and not a demand, is to start making yourself a bit more boring, so you can not be such a red blip on that radar."

Jean-Paul frowned. "But I don't want to be boring."

Darcy took a deep breath. Bucky understood why they had labeled him a "potential rogue". He had a serious defiant streak. "Jean-Paul, I have permission to give you this information." She passed him a business card. "Call that number. I can't give you too many details right now, but there's a place you could go, where there's kids like you. Where you will never have to be boring, and you can learn how to properly use your gifts. I suggest you call."

"Who is it?"

"He will tell you." Darcy got up from her spot at the table. "I think I've given you enough information to think about, for now."

Bucky wasn't satisfied, however … he knew the kid needed a little more persuasion, but he didn't want to do anything too menacing in front of Darcy. Jean-Paul needed to be shown though, what could happen to him if he stayed on the path he was on. Bucky gave him his coldest stare as he stood up, taking off his glove and revealing part of his cybernetic prosthetic. He didn't sneak a glance up to Darcy to see whether or not she approved. He picked up the spoon the kid had been using and molded it into a little ball, as easily as if were putty. He then closed his fist and opened it, letting the tiny pieces of the former spoon fall onto the table. "Call the number," he said, with quiet intimidation.

For the first time, the kid looked like he should take what they were saying seriously.

"See?" Darcy said. "And I assure you, he's one of the nice guys. You don't want to meet the bad guys."

The kid dumbly nodded.

* * *

**~~*...*~~**

On their hike back to the cabin, it began to snow, and by the time they were stepping inside, kicking it off their boots, it began to get pretty bad.

Darcy blasted the heat even higher than it was, took her gloves off, and started to rub her hands together to warm them up. Her face was flushed from being out in the cold, and Bucky couldn't help but notice how charming it was, the way her long hair was mussed after taking off her knit cap.

She hopped on one foot as she took off a boot. "Really? A spoon?"

He shook his head out and shrugged. "There wasn't anything else to use. What was I going to do, squash his sandwich? Not exactly intimidating."

Darcy walked over to the tiny kitchen table, sat down, and started messing with her laptop. "I guess," she said.

It seemed as if she was trying her best to interact with him as little as possible. He wasn't exactly surprised, but he wondered what had happened between the time she'd seemed comfortable in his presence, to now … not being able to stand being in the same room with him for too long. It had to have been the "bad decisions" she'd been talking about, after their night out for Jane Foster ... telling him about herself after a few drinks, falling asleep on his shoulder. He couldn't really blame her. He wasn't exactly someone that girls like her should be falling asleep on. She was so full of life, and he was so void of it.

Bucky suddenly wanted to get out of there as much as she did. "How long do we need to stay?"

Darcy looked up from her screen. "If the little brat doesn't call the professor by tomorrow morning, I'll have to find him again and be a little more persuasive, and that's the part I really hate. In the end, I really have no jurisdiction over him. The Avengers can't legally do anything to him, and if Tony wants to take it further, then he's gonna have to come up here himself."

"Can you get another mutant to talk to him? Another Canadian?"

She shook her head. "The only other Canadian mutant I know is Logan, and he won't give a flying fuck."

Bucky didn't know who she was talking about, so he only grunted in response and went outside to see what the weather was doing, and to perhaps sneak a cigarette. And also to wonder why it was so damn attractive when she said the word 'fuck'.

As soon as he stepped out the door and lit up, he knew the weather wasn't good, and if the snow continued, there was no way they'd be able to take off safely. He walked over to where a pile of firewood was stacked beside the cabin, as he knew that if he didn't act quick, it would become too wet to use for a fire.

When he came back inside, armed with plenty of logs for the fireplace, Darcy was pacing around the room on the phone.

"I'm sorry, can you say that again?" she asked. "Reception isn't great up here."

She nodded and raised her fist in the air, pumping it several times. "Awesome. Thanks, Professor, I've got a plane to catch." She hung up the phone.

"Record time, James Buchanan!" Her mood instantly changed, she walked up and held up her hand, which he assumed meant she wanted a high-five, but his arms were full.

"Oh, right, yeah. Firewood," she said, taking her hand down. "But we're not gonna need it. Let's get out of here. Record time, baby. Record time. I think your whole … 'there is no spoon' demonstration scared the kid into calling the professor the first chance he got."

Bucky frowned. "Um. We're not going anywhere right now."

"Why?" She looked baffled.

He set the firewood down and pointed out the window. "No visibility. We can leave when the snow lets up."

Darcy shrugged. "It's just a little snow."

He looked back out the window and shook his head. It was practically blizzard conditions by now. "No. I've been tasked with getting you home in one piece, and I'm not going to risk my first mission going to shit, because you can't wait to get outta here."

She sighed. "But I have to get better wi-fi, we have to go. Vamanos!"

Bucky shook his head. "What's your hurry? I know I'm not the best company in the world, but what's worth the possibility of crashing the jet into the side of a mountain? If HYDRA was after us, I'd risk it, but we're clear, so I won't chance it."

Darcy rolled her eyes. "Fine." She brought her phone back to her ear, making a call.

He began to stack wood near the fireplace and listened to her conversation.

"Jane? Yeah, we're done. But there's like, snow flurries out there and Barnes won't take us home."

Bucky looked up at her in disbelief.

"Fine, fine, okay, okay. But I need you to do me a huge favor and I am trusting you with this most-important mission. I need you to buy those concert tickets for me … yeah … how about four? What?! No! I'm not gonna tell him that … _fine_ ," Darcy said, with a huff, and she turned to Bucky. "Jane says to tell you that she thinks you're right … because she is a nerd and is looking at the Weather Channel right now, and apparently there is a bad snow storm. Okay?"

He looked at her in confusion.

"Okay? Satisfied?" she continued on the phone. "Thanks, Janey. Please don't mess this up, you know the info, right? Cool. Bye."

She caught his quizzical stare. "What? She wouldn't agree to buy the tickets for me, unless I told you that she thought you were right."

Bucky was at a loss. "You wanted to leave so you could buy tickets to a show?"

Darcy looked at him as if he should know better. "Um, yeah. I need a stronger signal to deal with Ticketmaster's crappy-ass website. It's a cut-throat world out there, and tickets are going to go on sale early in the morning, and they're going to sell out quick. Normally I'd ask Tony, because he understands the struggle, but he's busy … so Jane is my best bet."

"Must be some show," he mumbled.

"Oh, you have no idea. _Legendary_."

He couldn't help but give her a little smile. She was a fucking maniac. "You like music?"

She grinned at him … the first grin in weeks that reminded him of the girl he met in the Avenger's kitchen. "Does the pope shit in the woods?"

"What?"

She laughed. "Is the pope catholic? Does a bear shit in the woods?"

"I … I guess."

Her face softened. "I'm sorry, James Buchanan. I should go easier on you. I just get overly-excited about these things, I suppose."

"I understand," he said. "Getting excited about music."

_It was something I used to do._

Darcy then beamed, practically lit up the room … it didn't last long, however, as the lights then went out.

"Fuuuuuuuck," she said, as she looked around in the darkness, the storm making it seem like night-time.

Bucky really wished he didn't feel a jolt, in places that hadn't had a whole lot of feeling in awhile, whenever she used that word.

* * *

**~~*...*~~**

With the electricity out from snow weighing down on the wires, it was too cold to stay in their rooms, so they'd camped out in front of the fireplace. Bucky hoped that the firewood he'd thought to bring inside would last, though he'd brought in more, laying it out and hoping it would be dry in time if they needed. For added warmth, Darcy had broken out a small bottle of Jack Daniels, saying that she was always prepared.

They'd been drinking out of tumblers they'd found stocked in the kitchen cabinets, but for some reason, adding ice didn't seem all that refreshing. The two sat on the floor, in front of the fire, leaning up against the couch and stretching their legs. Darcy held her drink up, looking at the flames dance through the glass and its amber liquid. "Maybe try to leave some whiskey for the flight later?"

Bucky didn't think that was going to happen. They were already half-way through the bottle. "Why?"

She gave him a shy look, a first for her. "I always bring it with me now, when I fly."

He was confused. "You're afraid of flying? You were ready and willing to take off during a snowstorm."

She shrugged. "I'd do anything for one of my favorite bands. But it's not really the weather. I was never afraid of flying, and I'm still not … not really. It's just, I always bring it with me now … it just makes me feel better … after a little experience I had." He could tell that she'd be happy to leave her explanation there.

"Oh, no," he said, the whiskey making him braver in conversation. "You're going to need to give me a little more than that."

She took a deep breath, apparently ready to spill. The liquor seemed to be working on her, too. "It was from being on an alien jet, where the technology was much different than ours. It was like a video game, except I was in the damn game … with the ship gaining and losing crazy amounts of altitude in seconds, and spinning, dodging lasers 'n shit. Fucking. Lasers. I just … well, let's just say, since then, I come armed with alcohol."

He blinked a few times. "Damn. When was this?"

She shook her head and gave a sardonic smile. "Oh, it was a during a lovely weekend I spent on Asgard," she said, and the look in her eye told him that it wasn't lovely at all. He figured he'd gotten her to tell him enough, and left it at that. He appreciated it when people didn't pry too much with him, and she hadn't so far … so he gave her the same courtesy.

Instead he changed the subject. "Can I ask you something?"

Darcy looked relieved at the possibility of a different topic of conversation. "Shoot."

He hesitated a moment, his eyes staring at the fire. "What you told that kid back there … that I'm one of the nice guys." He looked over at her. "Did you mean that?"

She smiled. "Of course."

He gave her wry grin. "Has anyone ever told you that you were naive?"

Darcy laughed softly. "Yes. But I'm not. I know the difference. Believe me, I've seen the bad guys. Tell me when you've decided to use an infinity stone to bathe the universe in darkness, destroying realms, killing a countless number of souls, and then we'll talk about your status as one of the bad guys."

Bucky's brow furrowed, not sure what to say.

She took a healthy sip of her drink. "You're one of the nicer guys … just go with it, James Buchanan."

"Then what was with the Mordor talk?" he asked quickly, before he gave himself the chance to think better of it.

She snapped her head over to look at him. "Huh?"

He knocked back his drink, taking the bottle of Jack and pouring himself some more. "The other week, when you were in the kitchen with Stark. I assumed you were saying something about …" he looked down, all of a sudden not so brave.

"Assumed what?" she looked genuinely concerned.

He bit his lip. "As me and Steve were walking in, you said that I could only be destroyed in the fiery pits of Mordor. I figured you were talking about my … my arm." He'd thought it must have been a nod to the fact that it was made out of vibranium, and therefore damn near indestructible.

"WHAT? NO!" Darcy looked shocked. "I was talking about your ... I mean, I definitely wasn't talking about your arm, or even about you, really. I was just joking around with Tony," she shook her head. "I was so hungover after all those stupid flavored-vodka shots that I had no fucking clue what I was saying … I totally never meant to offend you. Seriously, I was beyond mortified after that night, and I wasn't in any shape to be around … people."

He inclined his head. "Why were you mortified?"

Darcy grimaced. "The bad decisions. The vodka. The karaoke. Oh, god, the karaoke."

Bucky had figured she'd meant that falling asleep on his shoulder, and telling him they should be best friends, were her bad decisions.

He grinned, relieved. "Everyone had fun that night, you shouldn't feel mortified."

She squinted at him. "Even you?"

"Yeah, even me. After I could relax."

She nodded and took a drink. "Well that's a relief. I was worried you thought I was a total weirdo. Talk about a misunderstanding … the fiery pits of Mordor," she laughed, then seemed to think of something. "Wait … Mordor. You know what Mordor is? You know about The Lord of the Rings?"

He nodded. "It was the first thing I read … after I … started to come back to myself, you could say. I uh, had loved reading The Hobbit … you know, before the war."

She looked at him as though she was fascinated. "So you're a Tolkien fan?"

Bucky took another healthy sip of his drink. "Er, sure. During that time, when I was remembering … it was exhausting."

_It was excruciating. It was a living nightmare. It was a living hell._

"Every day, every second, I was so tired. It was nice to fade away … into …" his voice trailed off, unable to find the words to express what he was thinking.

"Fade away into a different world?" She was giving him a peculiar look … not one of pity, but of understanding. One Tolkien nerd to another.

He nodded, giving her a little smile. "Yes."

"I know exactly what you mean. So … have you seen the movies?"

He felt a rush of relief. Other people would ask him more about his deprogramming. She asked him more about their shared interest.

Bucky shook his head. "Nope. Haven't seen 'em."

"Damn," she said, then took a drink. "What to do … what to do …"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, we must remedy that as soon as possible, but the question is … do we start with The Hobbit trilogy, or The Lord of the Rings trilogy. Do we go with how the movies were released, and start with The Fellowship? But another questions is, will you still want to watch The Lord of the Rings, if you go with the book chronology, and start with The Hobbit … and then there's the question of do we watch the theatrical releases? Or do we go with the four-hour director's cuts …"

He grinned. "We?"

"Hell yeah, 'we'. I mean, the movies are a commitment, because they're pretty long, but I'm always down for watching them. And hell, maybe we could recruit Steven Grant … and definitely Clint. He has a thing for dissecting all of Legolas' moves, and I haven't seen him do it with the Hobbit trilogy yet … so maybe we'll just start with those."

"Hobbit trilogy? It was one book."

Darcy shrugged. "I know. But they took some … um, liberties. The Necromancer, or Sauron, plays kind of a bigger part. And there was an elf/dwarf romance. It was a whole thing."

Bucky frowned. "What?"

"I know, right?"

"Sauron?"

"Yeah. You know, he was a pretty bad-ass fiery-guy, with that eye of his. I've met a fiery-guy once, and I felt like he really wasn't much compared to Sauron, or even a Balrog. I was like, 'is that the best you can do'? I stole Thor's line. I was like, 'where's your army of orcs? I don't see any orcs around here.' Stupid Surtur."

"Are you drunk?"

She nodded. "Yes I am."

He hated to put a damper on the situation, given that they'd been interacting so much easier … but he couldn't help but notice their firewood situation. "Well," he said. "Being a bit sauced might be a good thing, because we're down to our last log, and the other stuff isn't exactly dry yet."

Darcy squinted at him. She was cute when she squinted. "And … I'm guessing that's bad?"

He couldn't help but laugh. "Well, it ain't good."

**~~::::::...::::::~~**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The mutant skier is based on a character from the X-Men comics called Northstar. Also, in case you're not familiar with X-Men, the professor Darcy was talking to was Xavier. 
> 
> Next up, a fave trope ... huddling for warmth ;-)


	5. Huddling for warmth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Huddling for warmth. Pretty self-explanatory ;-)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, turns out that writing a 'huddling for warmth' chapter was serious amounts of fun ;-) I highly recommend it.

**~~::::::...::::::~~**

* * *

Darcy looked over at Bucky … they were sitting in front of the dwindling fire, and she was getting colder and colder ... but he seemed to only get more fidgety, constantly adjusting his position and bobbing his leg up and down.

"Dude. You should smoke if you want … it doesn't bother me," she said.

Bucky frowned. "How did you …"

She gave him a smirk. "How did I know you smoked? You can't sit still, and please, I can tell when a guy is sneaking cigarettes. They smell like minty smoke after they come inside … thinking that a Lifesavers Wint O'Green will mask all of it."

He looked at her like she'd caught him with his hand in a cookie jar.

"Barnes. I might look naive, but I'm not … especially when it comes to smoking … and drinking … and shit like that."

He raised a brow at her. "Shit like that?"

Darcy shrugged and leaned her head back on the couch … the whiskey, and the whole situation, making her a bit more open than usual. "I used to have this boyfriend who thought he could get stoned and I'd not notice it. He thought he was bein' all stealth n' shit … but what he didn't realize at the time, was that I've spilled more weed on the floor rolling joints, than he'd ever smoked in his life. Sometimes I'd let them think they were getting one over on me … other times I'd just be like, whatever. Get the fuck out."

He inclined his head, grinning. "As easy as that, huh?"

"A guy who's getting fucked up all the time and feeling the need to hide it, or not share, has problems that I don't really feel like dealing with … so, yeah. Anyway, give me one of those," she nodded the pack of Camels he'd taken out of his jacket pocket.

"You smoke?" He asked, looking mildly surprised.

Darcy shook her head slightly. "Not really. Every once in awhile, when I drink … or when I'm too cold to do anything else … so I suppose, yes, I smoke when I'm drinking Jack Daniels and stranded in a cabin with no heat."

Bucky gave her a Camel and lit it for her. She took a long drag, like someone who hadn't had a smoke in a while and it felt so damn good. "Thanks," she said. "It was a bad college habit that I would pick back up around finals … pulling all-nighters. Smoke-breaks kept me sane."

He leaned his head back too, finally able to relax and sit still. "I've been trying to quit. The guys don't like it."

Darcy frowned. "Easy there, don't be too hard on yourself over it. Each and every person in the Avengers has a habit they'd like to kick."

He gave her a smile after blowing a stream of smoke towards the dying fire. "What's Steve's bad habit? Vision's?"

"You should know Steve's bad habits better than I do. As for Vision, he's different. I wouldn't say he had bad habits, but I know he's been working on his social cues."

Bucky nodded. "Vision has a bad habit of tearing apart your world in under a sentence. He was out with me and Steve once, at a coffee shop, and he sat at a table, waiting for us to order, watching a couple of kids run around the place. When we sat down, we noticed the guy actually had a tear running down his face … and when Steve asked what was wrong, he said, 'to watch the birth and death of beings is like looking at the movements of a dance'. When we got back, I went into my room and thought about what he'd said for hours. What the hell."

Darcy couldn't help it, she laughed. It was probably the most sentences he'd ever said to her at one time. "Aww, bless his little robot Jesus heart. And bless you, too. Dudes getting emotional over kids? Ovary explosion. Boom."

Bucky frowned. "Huh?"

"Nevermind. What's Steve's? Bad habit, I mean."

"Steve has a bad habit of trying to protect me from everything, making sure I'm okay, or having a good time … I hate it. Maybe it's because I used to do the same thing to him."

"Role-reversal. Interesting."

"Yeah. It's annoying."

Darcy gave him a smile. "You know he doesn't want to lose you again. He actually got his best friend back, after he thought all the people he knew were gone. Lost to the ages."

Bucky stared into the embers of the fire. "It's too much sometimes … to hold me up like that."

"You don't put him on the same kind of pedestal?"

Bucky slowly shook his head. "I don't think so … but I didn't walk around for a year by myself, remembering the old days. I still have trouble, remembering those things. And from the time I 'woke up' … he's always been there, even when I didn't want him to be. I never went through a stretch of time, when I thought he was dead. So, I get it. Still doesn't make it less irritating."

She nodded. "Sounds like it's good for you, then … doing your own thing. Going on your own missions. Like, Jane is my best friend, we have things we do specifically together, but she gets on my fucking nerves sometimes, and I get on hers … believe me, she lets me know. We each have things that we do on our own, we're not attached at the hip."

"What is it that you do on your own?" he asked, still staring into the fireplace.

Darcy took another drag from her cigarette. "Oh, plenty. Jane, like most people who work with the Avengers, is very focused. There are exceptions, of course, like Clint has a huge love for Phil Collins and also dogs, but for the most part, their work is their lives. Like, Jane and I will watch 16 Candles together and recite every line, but then she knows nothing about music, because most of her attention is focused on astrophysics. That does it for her."

"What kind of music do you like?" he asked, looking at her, finally tearing himself away from the fire.

"A better question would be, what kind of music _don't_ I like."

"Okay?"

"I'm not a huge fan of country pop music, but even I can't resist the spell that Taylor Swift has on this world."

His frown at the name told her that he'd never heard of Taylor Swift. "Do you play anything?" he asked.

"Piano. I took lessons from when I was about five until high school. I wouldn't say that I was very good, though. Do you ... play anything?"

"I used to attempt the guitar, but I haven't picked one up since ... well, I don't know."

"I'm sure someone has one, if you ever wanted to pick it back up."

Bucky shook his head, looking a bit pained. "I don't … even know what I'd play."

Darcy didn't want to pry, or ask him too many questions about his past … she didn't want him to be uncomfortable around her, so she changed the subject a little. "We had a piano at Avengers Tower. Don't tell him I told you, but Tony plays … pretty well, actually … he had a baby grand on the communal floor. It was nice to be able to play every once in awhile. The Upstate facility doesn't have one."

"What do you play?"

"There's songs I've been playing since I was a kid, the ones that are so ingrained that I'll probably remember them for forever … don't even need to look at the sheet music. And then I like to make up classical-type arrangements for rock songs … and rap songs."

He did a slight double-take. "Rap songs?"

"Yeah, I do a really great stripped-down version of 'Bitches Ain't Shit'," she laughed.

Bucky grinned. "I bet that's somethin'. I don't think I've heard that one … I uh, don't know much about rap music."

"A lot of people don't know much about rap music," she said, throwing her cigarette butt into the fire. He threw his in as well, and broke out his mints, handing her one.

Darcy finished the rest of the whiskey in her glass ... she'd held out drinking it, as it was the last of the bottle of Jack. "Mmmm," she said, popping the lifesaver in her mouth. "Whiskey, cigarettes, and mints. Throw in cheap beer, and it would taste just like college."

He only laughed softly, chewing on his.

She was then all of a sudden very conscious of the cold, and wrapped the quilt she'd pulled off one of the beds, more tightly around her, shivering. She'd been trying to turn it off, but couldn't quite do it anymore. "Is the firewood dry yet?"

"No. We've still got a little while."

"I think I'll go get another blanket."

He held his hand up. "I'll get em."

Bucky pushed himself off the floor and disappeared for a moment, doing his gentleman thing. He was wearing his black leather jacket for added warmth, and of course, a glove on his left hand, but nothing else. It made Darcy feel a bit ridiculous, as she was wearing her winter coat, knit cap, and scarf. She almost pulled on a pair of earmuffs, but didn't want to look too ridiculous, while he just sat there looking all … _gorgeous_.

_Whatever, he's a super soldier. Super soldiers don't wear earmuffs._

He walked back in, armed with a pile of several blankets and pillows, dropping them onto the floor in front of her.

She looked up at him. "You're not cold?"

Bucky shook his head. "I'm used to the cold," he said, as he sat back down. He then furrowed his brow, chewing on his lip, which only distracted her. If he bit that lip of his enough, they might not even need to start the fire back up. It was way too hot … he shouldn't be allowed to be that hot, doing something as simple and nonchalant as biting one's lip.

_Pull yourself together, woman._

She then watched as he seemed to struggle with wanting to say something. He opened his mouth then closed it. He did this several times. Finally, Darcy was just plain curious.

"What?" she said, shaking her head slightly. "Spit it out, man."

Bucky took a visible deep breath. "If you want … you can lean against me. I don't run as hot as Steve does, but I still run pretty warm. You'll be more … um, comfortable."

Darcy blinked, trying to resist the urge to grin like an idiot. "Um, okay," she managed to say, as she scooted closer to him.

"Here … take your coat off," he said, as he started to unzip his jacket, revealing the black long-sleeved henley he was wearing, snug in all the right places … through the shoulders … _damn_.

She brought her fingers to the zipper of her coat, but didn't make any other move, frowning at him … or more like frowning at whatever god created such a masterpiece of the male gender, so as to render her completely transfixed by a fucking henley shirt.

He noticed her hesitation. "It's just an old trick from the army, from when we were in conditions much worse than this. I promise, I'm not trying anything … I won't, you know, try anything."

She grinned. _He's. Adorable._

Darcy slowly unzipped her jacket. "But what if I try something?"

Bucky's mouth opened to try and form words again, and she laughed. "I'm kidding, trying to lighten the mood! Of course, I understand huddling for warmth, Barnes."

When she'd moved to sit right next to him, shoulder to shoulder, thigh to thigh … he started to wrap blankets around both of them, creating a cocoon of sorts. He lifted his right arm up for a moment, but then brought it back down to his side. Darcy rolled her eyes and lifted the arm, putting it around her. "It's okay," she said. They leaned back against the couch again, trying to get comfortable. Already, the heat radiating off of his body was warming her up. She closed her eyes, letting the shivering die down, relief flooding her stiff limbs. "Thanks," she said.

"It's not a problem. In the least. I was beginning to get pretty chilly myself."

Darcy was a lot more comfortable, curled up next to him, but these positions were always awkward, and she didn't know what to do with her arm. There was always that arm that you didn't quite know what to do with, when snuggling with someone.

_Is that what I'm doing? Am I snuggling with the Winter Soldier?_

She hesitated for a moment, then slid her arm around his middle, and she could feel Bucky's stomach muscles tense. "Sorry. Is this okay?"

"Uh, yeah, of course. Get comfortable."

Darcy took a deep breath, finally able to relax and enjoy the warmth, while leaning against the the crook in his shoulder. Smoking or no, he still smelled amazing. There was of course, the minty smoke, and the campfire scent from sitting in front of the fireplace … but then there was something else. It couldn't have been aftershave, because it didn't look like he'd taken a razor to his face in over a week. Maybe it was laundry detergent, maybe men's shampoo, maybe cologne, but whatever it was, the combination was heady, and with the addition of the Jack Daniels, it made something stir in the pit of her stomach … no, definitely lower than that. She shivered.

Bucky noticed and wrapped his arm around her tighter. "You alright?"

"Yeah, good. Totally fine."

"You tired?"

"Maybe a little," she lied. But the whiskey had made her feel a bit woozy. Or maybe it was the feeling of his shirt, and the chest beneath it, against her cheek. The hard stomach muscles under her arm.

"We can move to the couch … if you want to get some sleep."

"In a minute. I'm enjoying this … I mean, being warm. I'm enjoying being warm."

_Damn, it's been too long … since … that's why I'm having this reaction … too long since I've had some good old fashioned down and dirty ...  
_

"So what kind of music did you listen to?" she asked, in order to distract her from her thoughts.

She could sense him tilting his head in thought. "I'm not sure if you'd know who I'm talking about."

"Try me."

"I liked jazz, of course, but I really loved the blues. As a kid, my parents didn't approve of wasting money on records, but if I ever had two pennies to rub together, that's what I'd use them on. I don't remember all of them, but I do remember Bessie Smith. I was a big fan of hers. And in the army, I had a friend … when we got the chance, we'd listen to Rosetta Tharpe, Lead Belly, Robert Johnson. I really loved Robert Johnson."

Darcy nodded her head … talk of music, under blankets, with a hot guy that smelled good, was probably her idea of the perfect date.

_So not a date! Not. A. Date!_

"Robert Johnson, I know that guy," she said, trying to remain calm, wrestling down her libido. "He was the first in the '27 Club'. Sold his soul to the devil."

He looked down at her, grinning. "What?"

She shrugged. "It's just a legend. A rock n' roll legend. He influenced everyone that came after him. There's a story that says he sold his soul to the devil at the crossroads, in order to be able to master the guitar … and he is, actually, to this day, one of the greatest guitar players who ever lived ... but he died at 27. Since then, there's been a string of rock stars who have died at the age of 27."

"Really …"

"Yeah … keeps happening. Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, Jim Morrison, Brian Jones, Kurt Cobain, Amy Winehouse. Not sure if it's an actual curse, or some sort of self-fulfilling prophecy. So what's your favorite Robert Johnson song?"

"Hmm," he said, thinking. "Me and Gabe's favorite song was always 'Love in Vain'."

"Gabe?"

"Steve was never into that kinda thing, or not like I was … Gabe was my music buddy in the army."

She frowned, recognizing the name. "The Howling Commando? Gabriel Jones?"

Bucky nodded. "Yeah."

"Damn, that's weird."

"Why?"

"I knew his grandson, Antoine … well, Trip. He's the one who actually turned me onto Robert Johnson. I knew him since, well, since I could remember. He was a legacy in 'the life' … like me, I guess."

"He was? He's not anymore?"

"He died," she said, her voice quiet. "Almost two years ago, now."

She could feel him tense up. "I'm … sorry."

"Me too. He was a good guy … funny," she laughed softly. "And smooth."

"Just like Gabe."

The mood was suddenly very different for her. "I think I am actually tired now … we can move to the couch."

"Alright."

They both stood up and climbed onto the couch. He situated them under the blankets again, making sure to lay on his left side, so that he'd be putting his right arm, his flesh arm, around her.

Darcy then figured that since she was spooning with the guy, she should probably ask him about something … his name. "So what do you prefer people to call you ... James? Bucky?"

She only ever called him "Barnes" or "James Buchanan" to his face.

"Either works."

"Okay, Bucky."

She could feel him chuckle softly behind her. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Of course," she said. "We're spooning under blankets … you can ask me anything you want. We're best friends now."

He wrapped his arm around her tighter. "You call people by their first and middle names a lot of the time … why don't you ever do it to Barton?"

Darcy laughed. "Because, James Buchanan, that's only reserved for very special occasions, because he likes to retaliate, and I'm not quick enough to get away from him … so I have to be willing to suffer. Every once in awhile though, it's worth it."

He chucked behind her, and she could feel his breath against the back of her neck … she shivered again.

_Time to sleep, time to sleep._

"Night, Bucky."

* * *

**~~*...*~~**

Darcy woke up with an arm draped around her and the blankets kicked off. The fire was totally out, but sometime during the night, the heat had kicked back on, along with the electricity … yet apparently they'd stayed asleep. As she came to, she realized that her sweater had ridden up, and Bucky's hand was actually touching bare skin, his thumb absentmindedly drawing slow circles near her hip. Her body involuntarily reacted and she stretched, arching against him. She felt the moment he woke up, muscles tensing, the thumb-circling ceasing.

_Shit shit shit … I didn't mean to do that. Did I?_

The room was still dark, as it was obviously very early in the morning, but the snow must have stopped, the wires cleared, the electricity whirring back to life. She could also feel something else that had come to life, so to speak, something hard against her ass. Of course, it didn't necessarily mean anything. It was a totally normal occurrence.

_It's … the morning._

Darcy couldn't help it, she smiled. He must have opened his eyes and seen her smiling, because he then took it as an invitation to resume the thumb-circling.

"Mmmm …" It felt good, she was sensitive there ... it was one of her spots. Any more aggressive, and it would have felt like being tickled. She'd be on the ground laughing uncontrollably, pawing at him, telling him to get the fuck off … but this felt wonderful. She arched back against him again, and this time he lay his hand flat on her hip and met her, gently thrusting forward. She stretched, baring her neck to him, and he took the offering, laying a soft kiss on her skin. He moved his hand from her waist, and she felt its absence instantly, wanting him to return, but he used it to brush her hair out of the way, so he could move to kissing the back of her neck. She moaned, hell it was another one of her spots She rubbed against him harder.

 _Fuck_. The sound he made practically lit her on fire. No need to worry about the fireplace any longer. They spent a few moments like that, slowly and softly grinding against each other, such a natural movement, feeling so right, making little noises of pleasure.

But then a Queen song started playing … a ringtone from her phone. ' _Ooo, you make me live … '_

She ignored it.

"Is that your phone?" Bucky asked, his lips warm on her neck.

' _It's you, you're all I see … ooo, you make me live now honey … ooo, you make me live.'_

"Yeah."

' _You're the best friend … that I ever had …'_

"Who is it?"

"Jane."

_Best friend, ha! I'm changing the ringtone asap. Best cockblock, more like._

But then another phone started to ring … Bucky's, a more straight-forward ringtone. The kind that sounded like a regular old phone, like back from the olden times, in the 90's, when landlines were still a thing. She smiled … it was adorable that he'd made that his ringtone.

_The Winter Soldier is way too adorable for his own good._

He took his arm away and reached into his back jeans pocket. "It's Steve," he said, looking at the screen.

"Maybe something's up," she said, sitting up and stretching her arms above her head, the spell between them now broken. She stood and walked over to the small kitchen table where she'd left her phone, while Bucky still lay on the couch, moving onto his back in a more comfortable position. She noticed he pulled a blanket up to his waist and she grinned at what he was probably trying to hide. He pressed a button on his phone and put it up to his ear. "Yeah," he said, curtly.

Darcy answered hers, too. "Sup, Jane?"

"THOR IS BACK!"

It was so not what she was expecting to hear that early in the morning. She was still reeling from what had just transpired between her and Bucky, but this definitely pulled her back down to Earth.

"WHAT? Is he okay?" Her concern was now with her friends.

"Yeah! He's fine! But I just wanted to let you know! HE'S BACK!" Darcy could almost see Jane smiling through the phone, one of those smiles that made your cheeks hurt. She was happy for her friend.

"That's awesome, Jane. I'm so glad … and so relieved he's okay."

"When are you coming back? He's got quite the story. I checked the weather, the storm is over. And all the other guys are on their way home."

"Ummm ... ugh," Darcy said, realizing she had a headache, as the remnants from the arousal that Bucky had inspired, died down. She sat at the table … must have been the whiskey, along with not eating anything. "I'm sure we'll be taking off as soon as we can gather all of our stuff together … so not long at all."

"GOOD! Get here!"

Darcy flinched, Jane's voice all of a sudden too loud in her ear. "You realize that when I get there, I probably won't be as chipper as you. Me and Barnes finished off of bottle of Jack last night, trying to stay warm."

"Just get some coffee … it cures everything."

After hanging up with Jane, Darcy roamed around the kitchen, trying to find everything she needed to make coffee. She had a deep _deep_ need for coffee, and if she could, she'd have shot it straight into a vein.

"Do you have anything for a headache?" She heard a rough voice from behind her, as she searched around in the cupboards for filters. Darcy turned around to see Bucky, his hair mussed from sleep, still looking completely fuckable in his jeans and black henley … even though he'd slept in his clothes, and was obviously as hung over as she was.

"Um. Yeah. I have a bottle of Advil on the sink in the bathroom … grab me some, too?" He turned around to retrieve the medicine.

"Hey," she said.

"Yeah?"

"What did Steve say?"

"That everyone was on their way home … and that Thor had returned. And to see how we were doing with the assignment. I told him we were successful."

"Awesome," she said, and he turned around again.

"Hey!"

He turned back, raising his eyebrows, giving her a little smile.

_What should I say? Let's not make this weird? Let's go into the bedrooms and fuck each other's brains out? Let's never speak of this again?_

She went with the first thing. "I uh … I don't want us to be weird around each other, you know. Like before."

Bucky grinned. "Hey, I wasn't the one who ignored you for weeks."

Darcy grimaced. "I know … I'm really sorry about that."

"It's alright. But for now, I'm just going to go get this medicine, so I can concentrate on flying us out of here, and we can see what happens when we get back."

She smiled. "Sounds good. I'll start gathering our things."

Darcy turned the coffee pot on and started to pack her laptop and other various accessories away, as she thought about what could have happened with Barnes back there. Probably nothing, she surmised. The headaches would have been enough to stop any real nooky from happening. Who wants to have a pounding head while having sex with someone? She winced.

_No, not that kind of pounding head._

She checked herself. Was she actually thinking about having sex with Barnes? With 'dat ass'? Fuck yeah, she was. Fuck. Yeah. Darcy shook her head … she needed to clear her mind. There was too much going on here … snowbound, a cabin in the woods, whiskey, a romantic fireplace, confiding in each other. Huddling for motherfucking warmth. She needed to take a step back and really think about things.

After several minutes, she started to wonder what was taking Bucky so long, as it couldn't take ten minutes to find a bottle of Advil. She also didn't want to interrupt, if he was doing something "private" … _or did she?_ … but she walked to the bathroom anyway, to see the door ajar. She knocked, pushing it open all the way, and saw him with two different medicines in his hands, and a frown on his face.

He looked up at her. "Which one of these is for headaches?" he asked, quite earnestly.

_God bless his little heart … he is totes adorable._

She smiled, trying not to laugh. "Bucky, that round pack you have in your hand, just lay that one down and slowly back away."

He did as he was told, looking alarmed. "What is it?"

Darcy just shook her head.

"These are the only pills in here, and neither one says 'Advil'."

She sighed. "I'm sorry," she said, taking the bottle from him. "This is generic Advil, it's ibuprofen. I should have clarified. Here," she said, giving him two. "That, plus coffee and a shower, should knock out any headache."

Bucky still looked confused. "What are the other ones?"

"Let's just say they're not for dudes."

She walked out of the bathroom without completely answering. It was still way too early in the morning to explain birth control to a super soldier who just may have slept through the legalization of The Pill, the 'sexual revolution', and perhaps the whole Women's Liberation Movement.

* * *

**~~*...*~~**

On the plane home, the silence between them was much easier. When Darcy laughed while reading her tablet, like before, Bucky was comfortable enough to ask her what was so funny.

She looked at him shyly. It wasn't something that seemed to happen often, but when it did, he found it unbelievably cute. "It's actually a story about Aragorn and Eowyn."

"More Tolkien? The Silmarillion? I haven't read that one yet."

Darcy blushed. _She actually blushed_. "It's not Tolkien, exactly … it's a fan fiction."

"Fan fiction?"

"Yeah, I'll find you a good one later. Just don't tell Tony, okay? Ever? He'll never let me live it down. He'll find ways to tease me for the rest of my life."

He inclined his head, suddenly very curious. "What in the world kind of book is it?"

Darcy blushed further. "It's just something written by a fan of the original work."

He decided to tease. "What's got you blushing so hard over there, Lewis?"

She brought her hands up to her face, rubbing her eyes. "Nothing … nothing, shit. You made me smear my eyeliner … now I look like _you_ ," she said, setting her tablet in her lap and leaning over to find a mirror in her purse, to fix her makeup.

Bucky let the subject go, but made a mental note to ask Steve what fan fiction was … or maybe he'd just google it. Steve probably didn't know either. He then frowned, thinking of Steve …

Whatever it was that had been brewing that morning with Darcy, it couldn't go any further until he'd figured out once and for all, if his best friend had feelings for her. If he did, then obviously Bucky couldn't do anything other than keep things as they were … which was friendly. Steve may have said several times that he didn't think of her in 'that way', but Steve was never one to be very self-aware when it came to women. Bucky didn't want to stay friendly, however … he wanted to take things further. _So fucking bad_.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd woken up with a girl in his arms, or even if he ever had in the first place. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been so hard, so aroused, those parts of himself now completely woken up … and he was still trying to figure out how to deal with it all. "Before the War" Bucky knew how to deal with it … but "The Asset" had all of that turned off. Weapons didn't have those kind of feelings … urges. There were too many variables in that equation. Too many risks. Urges led to feelings, and feelings led to … remembering. So "they" turned it all off. Another trick to make him more weapon than man.

_It would be best to take things slow._

But taking things slow wasn't exactly what he wanted to do. It had never been his strong suit.

Darcy did deserve better, though ... but he didn't know if he was selfless enough to let her do better … if he even had the slightest of chances with her.

After a while in the sky, he found completely smooth air, and Darcy was engrossed in her story again, so he put the jet on autopilot. Bucky took out his phone, bringing up google … it was like a little pocket oracle that he still hadn't gotten used to. It was all too damn convenient, having so many answers at the touch of your fingers. He typed in a strange word, the name on Darcy's pack of medicine. He'd memorized the letters, curiosity making him need to know why women could take pills that men couldn't.

The answer came up and he narrowed his eyes, reading the description … _birth control pills_.

He read further, his mind wandering. _Holy fuck_. What must it be like … having sex with a girl and not needing to pull out. And not having to wear a condom. He knew condoms were now much different than the ones he'd been used to, but still … they had felt like a helmet. They were almost as good as pointless.

The social mores and religious climate during his upbringing had really put a damper on such pleasures … and he knew things were very different now, but he hadn't realized exactly how fucking different. He hadn't needed to care about it, up until now, so it hadn't exactly been on his mind. His mind had been busy with becoming an autonomous person again. The only other man who shared his type of experience, and who had probably already realized these things (or he certainly hoped so), was Steve … and Steve wasn't exactly one to talk openly about such matters, without being asked first.

He needed to have a long, and quite possibly, awkward, conversation with his best friend. And if things worked out in Bucky's favor …

_Imagine the possibilities ..._

His knee then jerked, as he suddenly tried to change positions in his chair, and ended up pressing the wrong button on the jet. It knocked them off course.

"What's wrong?" Darcy looked up, alarmed.

"Nothing. Nothing …" he mumbled, quickly mending the situation, and putting his phone away.

For the rest of the trip, he kept his eyes on the horizon, focused … determined to get them home in one piece, so he could then figure out some of those possibilities.

**~~::::::...::::::~~**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the amazing comments, you guys. It means a lot that y'all seem to be enjoying the story. 
> 
> And just in case you're not familiar, Antoine Triplett, or Trip, is from Agents of SHIELD, and I'm still not over that bit of nonsense, what with him staying dead and all. 
> 
> Next up: The sex pollen trope. Probably.


	6. Music + Sex pollen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sex pollen trope time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I honestly haven't read very much 'sex pollen' fic, (though the stuff I've read, I've loved) ... so this chapter contains my novice interpretation. Thanks for your help, Lefty! :-D You beautiful sex pollen expert, you. 
> 
> There's a lot going on in this one ... I thought about breaking it up into two chapters, but then I was like, nah ... we can do a long one. Hope ya like.

 

**~~::::::...::::::~~**

* * *

When Darcy and Bucky walked through the entranceway into the Avengers Facility, they figured they'd be bombarded with people telling stories of battle, and having the need to hold a meeting for hours and hours of debriefing … but they found the exact opposite, of sorts. What they found instead, was Clint sitting at the kitchen table with a big pot of coffee, playing Candy Crush on his phone.

"It's about time," he said, looking up.

They dropped their stuff and Bucky sat down.

"What? It's mid-afternoon. I'd say we got here pretty quick, considering we were snowbound. Where is everyone?" Darcy asked, as she took Jane's chocolate milk out of the fridge.

"No one got any sleep during the whole trip … so everyone crashed."

"What happened?"

Clint shook his head. "Inhumans are getting out of hand. Those terrigen crystals are causing too much trouble."

Darcy gripped the bottle of chocolate milk tight … she didn't really feel like dropping anymore precious liquid all over the floor.

_Did they find another fragile statue of human ash?_

Her mind instantly went to the photos in Trip's file.

"Darcy?"

"Huh?" She was frowning, still staring at the milk.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart … come over here and sit down."

"What?" she looked up, seeing concern all over Barton's face. "I'm fine. I just need more coffee ... here, give me some of that," she said, pulling up a chair. Darcy then filled a cup halfway with coffee, and then the other half with chocolate milk. "How's Thor?" she asked, changing the subject, as she didn't really want to hear about Inhumans.

Clint nodded. "He's fine … we talked with him for awhile before everyone went to sleep. Him and Loki found the time stone, it's why he was gone for so long. It felt like a weekend for them, but they ended up being away for nearly two months. Little bro went back to Asgard for the time being," he said, rolling his eyes. Clint still wasn't Loki's biggest fan.

Darcy took a big gulp of chocolate coffee. "They found it? Nice. I'm sure I'll hear all about it later … where are they keeping it?"

"That's for a meeting for another day, apparently … but Thor says it's safe."

"Safe like the Aether was?"

"Sure hope not."

"Hey," she said, grinning. "Do you think the time stone is responsible for the whole Berenstain Bears parallel universe theory?"

"Huh?"

"You haven't heard of it? It's a whole thing. You remember the Berenstein Bears right? Everyone old enough remembers it that way … but somehow it became the Beren _stain_ Bears, and no one can explain why. It's like some 'Through the Wormhole with Morgan Freeman', kinda shit."

"Aw, Darcy, no … this coffee is barely keeping me coherent. I can't deal with my mind being blown right now, if that's what you're about to do."

She took another sip of her drink. "Fair enough."

"Now tell me about your mission, so I can officially tell Tony we've had a meeting about it, and I can go to bed."

"Where's Tony?"

"He went to the city to spend some time with Pepper."

She set her cup down on the table with a loud thud. "You mean he made me do this thing, and he can't even be here for the debriefing? Whatever. We did it. The kid called Xavier … he's being flown over there next week."

Clint waved his hand. "Great. Mission complete, go take a load off."

"That's all you want?" Bucky asked.

Barton shrugged.

"Awesome," Darcy said, downing the rest of her drink and standing up. "I'm gonna go find Jane. Thanks, Clinton Francis …"

He looked up at her with droopy eyes. "Now why did you have to go and do that? I'm tired, Darcy Elizabeth."

Darcy grinned and then took off running down the hall … thinking maybe, _maybe_ this was her time. This was her time to win … but she only got as far as the living room, before Clint caught her, jumping on one of the couches, pushing off to propel himself above her ... and then wrestled her to the ground.

" _Ooof_. FUCK! I thought you were tired!"

"I'm never _that_ tired! When will you learn?" And he attacked, pinning her down, and maliciously tickling her.

Darcy tried to squirm away, but was rendered motionless by the spysassin Avenger, as she screamed with laughter.

"CAN'T … BREATH … CLINTON .. FRANCIS!"

He doubled his assault.

"Fuuuuuuuuck …" Darcy managed to turn onto her stomach, and reached out for Bucky, who was standing near the couch, smiling and shaking his head. " _Help_ … _me_ …" she tried to say, through her uncontrollable laughter.

He grinned and bit his lip.

_Fuuuuuuuuck. Not. Helping._

"Hey, Barton," Bucky said, with a nod. "I'll play Grand Theft Auto with you, if you let the poor girl up."

Clint instantly jumped to his feet, stretching his neck and rolling his shoulders. "Let's go."

Darcy moved onto her back and sprawled out on the carpet. She stared at the ceiling, trying to catch her breath. Bucky sat on the couch, regarding her with a raised eyebrow. She gave him a weak thumbs-up.

"You alright down there, Darcy Elizabeth?" Clint asked, as he fiddled with the TV and the Playstation.

"Yeah … just … laying here … in savasana … good time for some yoga."

"Great, great," he said, rifling through his games. "Oh, hey, will you be a doll and make us another pot of coffee?"

"Nnnngh." She didn't feel like getting up, but felt bad that she'd gotten Bucky pulled into videogame duty. "Okay, fine, Clinto-"

"I'm sorry, what was that?" He turned around to make sure he could read her lips, if she spoke too low.

"Clinton was a great president, you know? Like, he just doesn't get the credit he deserves. The 90's were a time of prosperity, innovation, and knowledge … so much knowledge. We even gained knowledge from his scandal. I mean, the nation learned that oral sex, is in fact, sex."

Clint pointed down at her. "You should get outta here before your need to fan flames gets you in trouble again, and Barnes has to play Assassin's Creed after we play GTA."

Darcy pushed herself up from off the floor. "Okay, okay," she said, walking towards the kitchen. "But did you know that Francis of Assisi is like, my favorite saint?"

* * *

**~~*...*~~**

After receiving the beariest of all bear hugs from Thor, Darcy sat on her and Jane's living room couch, while she was regaled with his tales of far-off realms, and adventures in infinity stone-finding with his brother. When she asked where they took it, he said they'd sent it off to Vanaheim, and only Thor and Hogun knew exactly where it was hidden … not even little bro knew, apparently. Darcy figured that was probably a good idea … as Loki may have been acting a bit more like the good guys lately, but that didn't mean he could be trusted to not make terrible decisions for reasons that only made sense to himself. After a while, Jane looked like she was about to explode from smiling so much, so Darcy made herself scarce, saying she wanted to get some sleep, and leaving them to be alone. It wasn't long, however, before the walls became a bit too thin, and turning up her TV or her music wasn't cutting it.

The Avengers facility was a lot different than living in Avengers Tower. At the tower, everyone had their own apartment, and some of the Avengers even had their own floor … but the facility was once basically just an elaborate storage building, used by Howard Stark. Converting it into a place where people lived had been interesting. They didn't have apartments exactly, more like "wings" with their own bedrooms. Darcy, Jane, and Thor, when he was on Earth, had a corner of their own.

Darcy didn't mind, of course. She was happy that Jane had Thor back … but all the sex noises going on down the hall had her turning up her music … _loud_. She began getting restless, pacing around the room, thinking about discussing music with Bucky … thinking about Robert Johnson, playing his songs … and thinking about Trip. He'd been running through her thoughts over the past several hours … especially after Clint's mention of terrigen crystals. Her imagining a pile of human ash.

Darcy sat on the floor next to a small chest she had at the foot of her bed, and took out his photo … along with several other people she knew from "the life". It was a bit of a hidden shrine, to all the souls she knew who had given their lives in service to … whatever it was that S.H.I.E.L.D. did. Sometimes she didn't even know anymore. Or if it was all worth it. There was, of course, Trip. Then there were a few friends who had died at the underground New Mexico facility, when it had collapsed … there were also several who didn't make it during the HYDRA coup, and before all of that, her father. And she hadn't known Pietro Maximoff, but he was respected and revered amongst the Avengers, so she had his picture too. Perhaps one of these days, there wouldn't be so many … perhaps one day, so many people wouldn't leave this world by violence.

It wasn't long before she couldn't do it anymore, as she felt tears stinging at her eyes … so she packed all the pictures away, and took her laptop to one of the lesser-used common rooms. She knew she could be alone there, and that no sex noises would be happening. Everyone in the building seemed to be asleep, or otherwise occupied … so she wasn't worried about any disapproving looks, as she took out her pipe filled with crystally green goodness. She sat down and sparked her lighter, taking a hit, letting herself relax. She then opened her computer on the coffee table, and played some bluesy White Stripes … thinking about lounging around and smoking with Trip … listening to music.

She sank back into the couch, stretching out, putting her feet on the table. Darcy could imagine him sitting right next to her … though he would only play albums on a record player, of course … and he'd insist that the lighting should be low, like the smooth motherfucker that he was.

" _I don't know how he does it … but that white boy can play the blues."_

" _Did you just make a double entendre about Jack White?"_

_He laughed. "Didn't mean to."_

" _I think being batshit crazy helps him … play the blues, I mean. "_

_He flashed his heart-stopping smile. "Girl, you ain't lyin'."_

"Who are you listening to?"

Darcy opened her eyes and sat up, seeing Bucky standing next to the couch, with another heart-stopping smile. A little grin. Different than Trip's … more subtle.

"Um … " she reached over and turned the music down on her laptop. "The White Stripes. Have a seat."

He took the invitation and sat down next to her. "Can't sleep?"

She shook her head. "Not through that particular homecoming."

"I can relate."

Darcy frowned. "Wait … what?"

_Am I that stoned, or did he just imply that Steve was getting it on with someone?_

Bucky shook his head slightly. "Steve's a very light sleeper … if I walk through our area to get to my room, he'll wake up and ask me a hundred questions, when he should just sleep."

"Hm. So how was your game with Clinton Francis?"

He chuckled. "Worth it. I don't understand how he loses so much … when I've only been playing video games for a few months."

Darcy laughed. "Hey, speaking of playing ... can I play you something?"

"Of course."

She brought up Robert Johnson and played "Love in Vain" for him, one of his favorite songs from a bygone era. Bucky sat back and listened, slowly smiling, remembering the tune, and looking more at ease than she'd ever seen him.

_And I followed her, to the station … with a suitcase in my hand ..._

When the song was over, she brought up another song. "Now, listen to this version." She then played the same song performed by the Rolling Stones. "I love this one."

He smiled at the guitar intro, eyes growing wide. "Who is this?"

"The Rolling Stones. A group of English dudes who were inspired by delta blues and americana. They were a part of the British Invasion in the 60's ... and they keep on playin'."

_The blue light was my baby … and the red light was my mind …  
_

"Can I play you another one?"

Bucky nodded. "Sure. Please do."

This time, Darcy played an old blues tune, "Where Did You Sleep Last Night" by Lead Belly … and then the same song by Nirvana. "Nirvana might be an acquired taste," she cautioned.

_My girl, my girl, don't lie to me … tell me where did you sleep last night ..._

Bucky frowned, nodding along to the song. "I like the other one better. But it's still good. It's … interesting," he said, after Kurt Cobain began to scream the lyrics.

" _In the pines, in the pines … where the sun don't ever shine … I would shiver the whole night through …"_

He nodded towards the coffee table. "What is it you've got over there?" he asked, with a raised brow.

She shrugged. "Marijuana. I was in a mood. I don't do these things often, I swear … well, not anymore … but it seems like you do a good job at catching me when I've decided to partake. Vodka, whiskey, cigarettes … weed."

He shook his head. "I'm no saint, Darcy."

"Ever try it?"

Bucky grinned. "A couple times. I recognized the smell … reefer. Some of the musicians I met at the Cotton Club were always smoking it."

Darcy sharply turned her head and stared at him. "Wait … did you just say 'Cotton Club'? Like, the legendary music venue in Harlem?"

He smiled, looking down. "It had moved to Manhattan when I went, but yeah. I didn't go a lot, didn't have the money … but every once in awhile I'd go ... when someone I knew could get me in."

Darcy had to make sure that her mouth wasn't hanging open in shock. _Nope. All good._

"Holy shit, I know someone who went to the Cotton Club," she mused, dreamily. "Tell me … _everything_. I mean, only if you want to."

He chuckled softly. "Give me some of that, first."

She passed him her pipe. "Oh my god, James Buchanan … did you, like … know Lucky Luciano?"

He threw his head back and openly laughed, smiling bigger than she'd ever seen him smile. "Darcy … I went to the Cotton Club a few times, I didn't run with the inner circles of the New York mafia."

* * *

**~~*...*~~**

"Darcy!"

She could hear someone whisper very loudly in her ear. "Eh?"

"Darcy … what were you guys doing in here?"

She opened an eye to see Jane sitting on the coffee table, in front of the couch she was lying on. Darcy then opened both eyes and moved her head slightly, realizing that she seemed to be lying in someone's lap. _Shit … that, is someone's crotch_. She frowned … _what?_ Bucky's lap. Her head was in Bucky's lap.

_Shit! Jane found me passed out in Bucky's lap!_

"Um," she said, sitting up and rubbing her eyes, as Bucky began to stir from sleep as well. There would be no coming back from this. Jane could probably see a mark on her face left by his jeans.

Darcy looked at her open laptop on the table, still playing old blues music, from a playlist that was over 12 hours long. Then there was the ashtray full of cigarettes, and other paraphernalia sitting next to it.

"We were just listening to music," she said, sleepily.

Jane shook her head, trying to hide a shit-eating grin. "You better get a can of air freshener in here before Steve finds out. You're not supposed to smoke in here."

Darcy waved a hand in her face. "Whatever, judgy. I never give him lectures when he drinks magic Asgardian liquor with Thor. That shit has some serious psychotropic elements going on."

Bucky yawned, reaching his arms up. "What time is it?"

"Still early," Jane said. "But I think Steve is looking for you … I just saw him in the kitchen."

He stood up, stretching his legs. "I better go find him, and let him know the details from Quebec." He looked down at Darcy. "I'll see you later?"

She gave him a little wave. "Yeah. I'll be around. Like, after about a pot and a half of coffee."

"Hm," he gave a little laugh, and then walked off towards the kitchen.

Jane suddenly looked at her with big eyes. "I told you!" she whispered.

"Told me, what?"

"You like him!"

Darcy sighed. "Too early for this discussion, Foster."

" _You like him … you like him_ …" she sang.

"Are we 13 years old today?"

Jane gave her a smile. "I was going to apologize for being too loud last night, and making you leave your room … but it looked like things worked out in your favor, after all."

She groaned. "All we did was listen to music. There was nothing else going on."

"Lie."

"I'm not lying."

"You fell asleep with your head on his crotch."

"Okay, when you put it like that …"

"Just admit it, I really hate seeing you like this."

"Like what?"

"In denial."

"Not in denial. Nope. Not me. No way."

"Da. Nile. Not just a river in Egypt ... that looks strangely like the line running down your cheek ... the one left by _a seam in his pants_."

"Fuck! _Fine._ I like him … but it's not fair … you making me admit this before I've had my coffee."

"What's so wrong with liking him?"

"He's in 'the life' … I didn't want to date anyone else in 'the life', and he's a fucking lifer if there ever was one."

"But you can't date civilians, Darcy. You'd never be able to be completely honest with them. Like with Ian. Doesn't work. You'll never date again if you stick to that plan."

"Well, that was the idea."

"It's a stupid idea."

Darcy shook her head. "I know. A vibrator and chocolate isn't cutting it." She shrugged softly. "Plus, there's very few people in this world I can be completely honest with, and it becomes even fewer with each passing year."

Jane gave her a sympathetic smile. "Just take it slow. It's not the end of the world."

"Yeah … at least I hope not. I'm still tired from the last time the world threatened to end."

* * *

**~~*...*~~**

Bucky tried the curb the grin that had sneaked upon his face, on his way to the kitchen to find Steve. The previous day had been interesting, filled with him wandering around and finally finding a place to land ... when he happened upon the lounge, and found Darcy listening to music.

The video game with Barton had been fun … he liked the guy. Clint was understanding without dishing out pity … he knew what it was like when someone got into your head and played around. He knew what it was like to be made into something else, the enemy, without your consent. Sometimes when Bucky had a hard time adjusting, he'd get a nod from Barton … in a meeting, at the kitchen table, during heated conversations, could be anywhere. It would just be a nod, but it was enough. It said, "I feel ya, buddy … and you have no enemies here. We understand. _I understand_."

Once Barton had started getting himself into a mess in GTA, Bucky decided to ask him a few questions, thinking he'd be distracted enough to answer him.

"Why was Darcy upset at the mention of terrigen crystals?" he'd asked.

Clint tried to get his character away from the cops. "Notice that, did you? You pick up on a lot more than you let on," he said, turning his head and flashing a grin. "I do the same thing."

"Maybe."

"Fuck!" Barton muttered, as he attempted to steal a car. "Okay, so … one of Darcy's good friends died from being exposed to terrigen crystals. We try to be sensitive about it around here, but sometimes I run my big mouth."

Bucky nodded. "Was it a guy named Antoine? Trip?"

"Yeah, that's him," Clint said absentmindedly, his mind more on the game.

"I knew his grandfather."

"Small world, isn't it? Shit, _shit!_ Motherfucker," Clint said, as he'd lost.

After Barton had gone back to his room, clutching a pot of coffee like his life depended on it, Bucky had attempted to go back to his room for some sleep … but he knew that Steve was trying to get some rest. All he'd needed to do was get through their living room and kitchen, making no sound … but that's not exactly what happened. Of course, he'd made no sound, as he was one of the world's best trained and most lethal assassins, and those skills came in handy from time to time … but as he'd moved down the hall, he could hear a strange moan. He silently went to investigate, hoping someone wasn't sick or injured.

What he'd found, however, wasn't anyone who was sick or injured … but just so happened to be Natasha sitting on top of their kitchen island, with Steve between her knees. His shirt was gone, and if Bucky would have stood there any longer, hers would have been gone as well … so he left as quietly as he came in … feeling like he'd been knocked upside the head.

_Since when has this been going on?_

He then wondered about the implications of what he'd just seen … wondered what kind of world he was living in, when Steve Rogers was getting laid and he wasn't. But then his thoughts took a different turn ...

 _Steve really_ doesn't _have 'those feelings' for Darcy._

And then, there she was.

She'd been reclining back on the couch with her feet on the coffee table, eyes closed, listening to music. Bluesy electric guitar was blaring and her head was slightly nodding along to the beat. He thought about leaving her to it, but then figured it was a perfect time to get to know her a little better … and it wasn't like he was going back to his room anytime soon.

What had happened was the best time he'd remembered since … well, he couldn't. Couldn't remember. It was like listening to music with Gabe, sitting around and smoking cigarettes in the dark … only with a _beautiful girl_. The kind of girls he knew back then, the good ones, did not do that type of thing. They expected to be wined and dined, shown a good time, and then delivered to their doorstep before it got too late. They always had a reputation to uphold. Virtue had went hand-in-hand with a lady's value. Most would have never casually sat alone in a room with a man, lounging on the floor overnight, trading stories about shows and songs that meant something to them. The girls he knew had never heard of anyone like Robert Johnson.

And Darcy asked him questions … not about the war, not about being the Winter Soldier, but just about what he liked, mundane things he used to do. He found himself teaching her things instead of the other way around. He'd told her stories about the old blues guys, jazz music ... and when he talked of seeing Louis Armstrong live, she'd bounced up and down on the couch, and made him tell her everything about the experience. It had felt good. He'd gotten tired of having to be taught, needing constant explanations just to get on in the modern world. It was nice _giving_ the explanations ... and he found her excitement over the things she loved, endearing and irresistible. Intoxicating.

Darcy was beautiful, hilarious … curious, though she never pried. She never lectured … and she never bombarded him with too much information. She accepted that he might not know everything she talked of, and tried to find common ground, instead of insisting on giving him lessons like some kind of schoolmarm. She couldn't know how much he appreciated that. He'd gotten enough of it over the months, even though everyone who unknowingly did it, meant well. And when she did have to explain something, she treated him as though he was just a person from a different place, instead of an altogether different time. There was no hand-holding. No looks of pity. They were just two people enjoying each other's company. She'd fallen asleep on his shoulder again, after a night of listening to tunes. The smoking they were partaking in, made both of them tired, feeling boneless … and then she'd somehow ended up in his lap. He'd awoken sometime in the night, finding her there, not wanting to disturb her. He'd brushed the hair out of her face and behind her ear, before falling back asleep. Content. Able to completely relax. No nightmares.

Steve had once said that it was hard to find a girl … hard to find someone with shared life experience. He and Darcy had certainly led completely different lives, but they did have things in common. Maybe that was enough. It was going to have to be. Or he'd end up like Steve.

_No, wait … Steve was actually getting some._

Bucky glided into the kitchen with a smile on his face, seeing Steve at the counter, pouring himself coffee.

"Buck!" he said, turning around. "I've been looking for you. Where you been?"

He gave his best friend a grin, tilting his head. "Good morning to you, Steve. You're looking very … _relaxed_."

Steve gave him a little smile, probably thinking that he was looking at a memory, the ghost of his old friend smirking at him. And maybe Bucky actually felt like that person for a minute, but then Steve blushed, realizing what was being implied.

"Um. I mean … what?" Steve sputtered. "I'm fine. Good. I uh … huh?"

Bucky shook his head. _Some things never change_. "Just pour me some coffee, slugger … didn't get much sleep. I spent last night wandering around, not wanting to walk in on something that I'd rather not have in my head. I've got enough going on in there at the moment."

Steve turned bright red as he nodded, pouring Bucky a cup.

* * *

**~~*...*~~**

Darcy was sitting in her office on top of her desk, cross-legged, opening her mail … when Bucky walked in. She'd expected to run into him, but didn't anticipate him coming to find her. She'd spent a long day working, after standing in the shower for about an hour, thinking about everything from the Berenstain (Berenstein!) Bears to the time stone, to Bucky's perfect lips … and how she desperately wanted to know what they felt like on hers, instead of just on the back of her neck … while grinding on a couch.

_Pull yourself together, woman!_

"Um, hey! What's up?" she asked, with a smile plastered on her face.

He walked up to her and brought his right arm from behind his back, presenting her with a paper flower. She blinked at it for a moment and then reached out and took it. "What's this for?"

Bucky gave her a crooked grin. "Have dinner with me tomorrow night?"

She raised an eyebrow, shocked. "Are you asking me out?"

He nodded slowly, as if she were a bit daft. "People still do that, don't they?"

Darcy gave a little laugh. "Yeah, I suppose. Just not so much around here." She twirled the flower between her fingers.

_The adorable assassin out of time just gave me an adorable paper flower. How adorable._

"Um, sure. Dinner sounds good." She put the flower in a mason jar she kept for pens. "I actually have something for you, too," she said, leaning back and pulling a record off the shelf behind her desk, and then handed it to him.

He took it and sat down in one of the office chairs. "What is this?"

She gave him a nod. "The Rolling Stones. 'Exile on Main Street'. We listened to them a little bit last night. I know you and Steve are purists and listen to your record player. It's arguably the best rock n' roll album of all time."

He raised his eyebrows. "Arguably?"

"Meaning lots of people would probably argue with me, but I don't care. Sgt. Peppers can suck it."

"Well, now I'll have to listen to both, to see if I need to argue with you," he said, with a grin.

_Oh, ouch._

His flirting was making her stomach do flips. Soon she'll be kissing him and her knee will bend, her foot popping in the air … like something out of old black and white movies. He was probably used to girls doing that. When he went on dates. Courted. He'd courted girls. With really elaborate hair styles. And cute dainty dresses. And uncomfortable undergarments. _Will he see my undergarments?_ _What?_

_Pull yourself together, woman!_

Darcy held up her hands. "Um. You'll have to find Sgt. Peppers on your own. I own zero Beatles albums."

"You own records?"

She nodded. "A few. My dad gave that to me."

"I'll make sure to take care of it, then."

Darcy grinned like the idiot she felt like, and went back to opening her mail. "So did Steve find you? Was he satisfied with our handling of the assignment?"

"Oh, he was satisfied."

She gave him a quizzical look. "What?"

Bucky shook his head. "All is well. Mission complete. Hopefully I can keep working my way up."

She peered at him. "You really want to do Avengery things? Put your life at risk like that?"

He shrugged. "It would help me sleep better at night. Maybe erase some of the …" he shook his head a little, obviously unable to find a way to express what he was thinking. It seemed like he had a habit of that.

Darcy helped him out. "I understand. Like Natasha. Wiping out the red in her ledger."

"Something like that," he said, biting his lip.

_Bucky and his damn lip-biting._

She went back to her mail, picking up a package and beginning to tear it open. "So what's your favorite thing to eat?"

"Why?"

"For dinner tomorrow night, silly. I can make us something."

He looked confused. "When I asked you out, I didn't mean for you to be the one going to any trouble."

"Aww. You're such an adorable gentleman. No, but really, I love cooking. We can make dinner together, it'll be fun," she explained, frowning at the little box in her lap.

If her mind wasn't on other things, she might have been a little more skeptical of a package with no return address on it, but with the way things were, she just opened the flaps of the box … and a blast of a powdery substance launched itself in the air.

"Darcy! Don't. Breathe." Bucky stood up, taking the package, and throwing it across the room ... and with the metal arm, holy shit, did it fly. He then pulled her off the desk and dragged her out the door, running down the hall and away from her and Jane's offices.

Darcy reached for her phone, taking it out of her back pocket, and called Steve. He answered on the second ring. "Hey," he said, probably figuring she was calling to ask him what dudes called blowjobs in the 1940's, or something along those lines. Like she usually did.

"Steve … suspicious package … powdery shit … my office …"

His tone instantly changed. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah …" she dropped the phone, let go of Bucky's hand, and leaned up against the wall, breathing deeply in and out … in and out.

Her eyes rolled back in her head. Breathing felt so damn … _good_.

"Darcy?" Bucky looked back to see why she'd stopped, and then she noticed that he was breathing, too … in and out … in and out. She inclined her head. He was so beautiful. His hair was tied back. He was wearing a long-sleeved green t-shirt. Such a pretty color. He was wearing a glove … _damn, what did that arm look like in person?_

"Mmmm, whatever this is, it's some good shit," she said, her voice sounding far away, and yet loud in her ears. She pressed her back against the wall. _Damn_ , the wall felt good. She reached her hand out to Bucky and he took it, walking right in front of her, looking down into her eyes. Their bodies were only about an inch apart.

"What is this?" he asked, under hooded eyelids, clearly affected as well.

"Feels like … MDMA," she breathed. "Or molly … fucking ultra-ecstasy."

"Keep saying 'fuck', Darcy …" he said, looking at her with his blue-grey eyes, like he wanted to devour her.

" _Fuck_ ," she said, hooking a finger in his belt, pulling him towards her … getting rid of that stupid inch between them. "I want to feel you."

He pressed his hips into hers and groaned. _Holy shit_ … he hit her in just the right spot. Bucky then leaned down, putting his lips to her neck, breathing in her scent. "You smell so good," he said. "You always smell so damn good." He grinded against her, and it felt like he was actually touching her bare skin, her senses were so heightened. She cried out, and he must have liked the response, because he then thrusted harder.

"More," she said, breathing heavily, the air being pushed in and out of her lungs, feeling so good, Bucky's hips grinding against hers, feeling so good ... his lips on her neck, feeling so good.

He bent down and picked her up by the backs of her thighs, and she wrapped her legs around him, throwing her arms around his neck. "You're gorgeous. I want you ... so bad," he said. "I've wanted you since … that day in the kitchen. I've thought about you wrapping your legs around me ... so many times."

She could feel his shoulders beneath his shirt, one flesh, one metal. The muscle, the skin. She wanted to feel his skin on hers. "I want you, too … I wanted to rip that henley of yours off … at the cabin. Wanted you … on top of me. _Fuck_ … this is like candy-flipping."

"Mmmm, what's that?" His mouth was kissing down her neck, inching towards her chest, her breasts. She arched against him and he growled. Fucking. Growled.

_Lower … go lower. Please go lower._

"Candy-flipping … is taking molly and acid … at the same time."

He paused, resting his forehand near her clavicle, breathing heavily. He slowly shook his head. "Not like this, Darcy. Not like this."

She must have made him realize that they were on drugs … like some serious shit.

Bucky set her down and then threw himself against the opposite wall. "This … isn't … _real_ ," he said, as if in pain, sliding down, and crashing on the floor.

Darcy let herself fall to the floor as well. _Fuck_ … the floor felt so damn _good_.

She could hear footsteps running down the hall, and Darcy turned her head to see Wanda coming towards them, as if in slow motion. Her long brown hair seemed to float around her. She was so ethereal … Darcy wasn't sure she'd ever seen someone so beautiful.

_I AM TRIPPING BALLS!_

"Darcy! Steve and Clint are taking care of the box! Are you alright?"

Wanda bent over, feeling her forehead. The touch felt amazing. Darcy sat up on her knees, throwing herself around Wanda's middle, wrapping her arms around her waist, feeling the fabric of her simple red dress against her cheek. She felt so soft … so _good_. "I need … your help … Wanda."

Wanda put her hands on Darcy's temples, and she could already see the red glow emanating from her fingertips, could feel their brush in her mind, trying to decipher where things were going haywire. She found it.

Darcy instantly felt relief. She let go of Wanda and fell back to the floor, now only feeling like she was on a simple narcotic, and not tripping major balls. "Thank … you."

Wanda walked towards Bucky, who was obviously having trouble. He had his knees to his chest, trying to roll himself into a tight ball, to keep from doing anything. "James."

"STAY AWAY FROM ME," he yelled at the top of his lungs, sounding terrified.

"James, I am here to help you."

"STAY OUT OF MY HEAD."

Wanda kept her distance, looking as if she was trying to calm down a rabid animal.

"Bucky," Darcy said, catching her breath from her spot on the floor. "She can help you. She helped me."

"GET HER WAY FROM ME, DARCY!" He had his hand to his chest, like he was having trouble breathing.

Vision was all of a sudden there, and Darcy blinked. _Did he just fly in? Teleport? Am I still tripping?_

He knelt in front of Bucky, his movements fluid and effortless. "Breathe James, breathe with me." Vision put Bucky's hand on his chest. "Feel my breath … breathe with me."

Vision seemed to be helping Bucky through a panic attack. It made Darcy wonder how many times he'd done it before.

"Wanda can help you, James. She would never hurt you. Only help. But not without your consent … never without your consent," Vision said, in his calming voice. Darcy thought she could probably listen to him speak all day.

She was beginning to feel very tired, like she'd taken too much pain medication and needed to pass out … but she wanted to make sure that Bucky was okay. Eventually, she saw Wanda's red glow again, and figured he must have been talked into letting her help. She could then feel someone picking her up and carrying her out of the hallway.

"You're okay, kiddo. You're okay," Clint said.

"Is Bucky alright?" she asked, drowsily.

"He'll be fine … he just doesn't like his head messed with, even if it's to help. Can't say I blame him."

Darcy then felt herself being transferred into another set of arms. Bigger. Taller. _Thor._

"Let her sleep it off," Clint said. "I have to get back and help with Barnes. And figure out what the hell happened."

"Of course," Thor said.

_That doesn't sound good._

She felt Thor lay her down on her bed. "Sleep, sister."

"Did I make him have a setback?"

"Of course not … and nothing was your fault. He will be fine."

"I should have known better," Darcy said, feeling tears in her eyes.

"Shhh. Sleep. All will be well."

Darcy couldn't stay conscious any longer … and her bed felt so _good_. She fell asleep trying to think of Bucky's lips on her neck, and not curled up on the floor, clutching his chest. Things had started out so innocent earlier … he'd given her a paper flower.

She really hoped Thor was right … that everything would be okay, because everything she had told Bucky in the hallway was the truth … that she wanted him. She hoped that what he'd said had been the truth, too.

**~~::::::...::::::~~**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I used the sex pollen ... or airborne MDMA ;-) ... as a sort of truth serum. They were both tripping balls. 
> 
> Also, songs mentioned were 'Love in Vain' and 'Where Did You Sleep Last Night' ... both old tunes we associate with newer groups, recorded much earlier by Robert Johnson and Lead Belly, and they are worth a listen. And then of course, the Rolling Stones and Nirvana versions of the same songs. If you're a music nerd, it's very interesting to see the influences and listen to different interpretations. And then, I didn't mention the title in the chapter, but the White Stripes song Darcy was listening to was Ball and a Biscuit. 
> 
> Next up: First date. 
> 
> Y'all know I can't leave things angsty for long ;-)
> 
> And thanks so much again, for all the amazing comments and kudos. You guys are so AWESOME to me!


	7. Friends + first date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Awkward friendly advice + Bucky arrives to take his girl out on a date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, guys. Seriously, this fic continues to be a blast to write. Hope ya like.

 

**~~::::::...::::::~~**

* * *

Bucky woke up in his bed with a gasp, shooting straight up, disoriented.

"Easy. On your right."

He looked over to see Steve sitting in a chair next to him.

His head felt fuzzy. "Did you sedate me?"

"Had to."

"What the hell happened?" He remembered a small box emitting white powder in the air, right in Darcy's face. His hands clenched at the sheets.

Steve crossed his arms. "You and Darcy were dosed with what could have been a seriously dangerous combination of LSD and MDMA. It was perfected, made to instantly enter the bloodstream through inhalation. And it was highly concentrated. Wanda was able to help Darcy immediately, and after a bit of convincing, she helped you too, though you were still pretty out of it. You had a panic attack and we didn't want you to start hallucinating ... we thought it could be dangerous, so we sedated you. Let you sleep it off. I hope that was the right thing to do, Bucky. I'm sorry if it wasn't."

Bucky shook his head, blinking, trying to knock out the fuzz. "No … it's fine. Thank you."

"Sounds like the two of you acted quick, kept most of it from having too much of an effect."

Bucky rubbed his eyes, attempting to chase away the headache that had formed behind them. "Jesus. I'd hate to see what the full effect would have been." He scowled. "Who the hell sent it to her? And how the hell did it get to her in the first place? Are they not screening the mail here?"

Steve shook his head in disappointment. "There was some kind of tech in the wrapping, and it got past our screening. Gonna have to change how it's done. I'm wondering if we should even be opening our own mail at all … but some level of privacy needs to be maintained."

"Not if she's getting letter bombs. Who was it?"

"Probably has to do with outing a mutant. Darcy's in a tough position, we've tried making her as anonymous as possible, but someone apparently found out who did the outing."

"Is that why you want trumped-up security for when she goes on missions? Why she can't venture out to public events by herself? Because she's been made into a target?"

Steve nodded. "That's a reason."

He narrowed his eyes. "What aren't you telling me?" Last week, Bucky didn't mind that they weren't telling him everything, but now … things had shifted between him and Darcy. He now minded. Quite a bit.

Steve looked away. "I worry about her. She's had a tough year … we've all had a tough year. A tough couple of years, honestly. But the way she deals with it all, she tries to hide it. She'll go off on her own when things start getting tough, she doesn't like getting emotional in front of people. And hey, I can relate. But as you can see, she's going to need to be more careful."

"You bet your ass she's going to be more careful."

Steve looked him in the eye. "Easy, Buck. Are you making this your personal mission? Because I'll tell you right now, she's not going to like that."

"And how would you feel if the same thing happened to Natasha?"

Steve's brow furrowed. "I deal with it all the time … but I've learned that Natasha can take care of herself, and hell, she's taken care of me ... too many times to count. Every single woman in this building can hold her own, including Darcy, right along-side any of the men. Where some of them might lack strength, they make up in being resourceful. It's a cold hard truth, and it's easy to forget, given how we grew up, but you need to remember that. At all times."

Bucky shook his head. "She couldn't even get away from Barton, when he was tickling her."

Steve laughed. "Don't let him fool you, Clint is the absolute best at what he does. He is an Avenger … 99.9 percent of the world's population couldn't get away from him if they tried. But I promise you, if Darcy really wanted to get away, she would have … but she would have had to hurt him."

"Hn," Bucky sat back with his arms crossed.

"Listen, I want to talk to you about Darcy."

"Why?"

"After she dropped her phone, I was still on the line. I could hear some of what the two of you were saying. Things seem … to have progressed a little, between you two."

"So?"

"Just ... "

"What? You don't approve?"

Steve gave a wave of his hand. "No, no. Nothing like that. It's just … these girls are different than the ones we used to know."

"I've noticed."

Steve seemed to struggle with what to say, frowning. "If the two of you go down that road … I just want you to be prepared for … _you know._ Things have a tendency to happen quickly."

Bucky groaned. "You are not giving me this talk, Steve. I know how these things work. I haven't forgotten _that_ much."

Steve held up his hand. "No, listen. Women now have different expectations. And not just in the way that they want to be viewed, or rather, deserve to be viewed, as equals, by men. But they have expectations in … _other areas_ , as well."

"What?"

"You know … _expectations_."

"Are you actually giving me girl advice?"

"I'm trying to help you, Buck. Women nowadays … they're _into_ it. Most have as much experience as men do. They enjoy it. They expect to … _you know_ …"

Bucky shook his head in exasperation. "No. I don't. Spit it out."

Steve sighed, covering his face with his hands. He took a deep breath. "They expect to get off. Maybe even several times. They're bold … very bold."

"Ummm …"

_Is this actually happening?_

"And some things are just accepted now, as a part of a natural progression in a relationship, that wasn't the norm when we were kids."

"Huh?"

"Like ... do you remember Vinny Cardosi? When we were sixteen? Going on and on about how a girl went downtown on him?"

Bucky frowned, trying to recall. "Barely. I remember we didn't believe him."

"Exactly."

"What are you saying?"

"What I'm saying, is that something like that ... it was way past a home run back then … it would have practically been a no-hitter. But now … it comes standard. It's foreplay."

Bucky sat in his bed, looking confused. "Oh."

"Have you, uh … ever ventured very far on the internet?"

"Steve. You're going to have to start saying things in plain English."

"Have you ever looked at the porn they have nowadays?"

"Er … besides what I've seen on that Game of Thrones show that Stark watches?"

Steve shook his head. "I don't recommend it."

"Why?"

"I tried watching it once, for you know, pointers … but I just ended up even more nervous. Just … don't."

Bucky started looking around the room, at anything but Steve. "Me and Darcy … we haven't even kissed." He shook his head. "Why am I telling you this? Why are _you_ telling me all this?"

Steve raised a brow. "Like I said, things tend to happen quickly around here. I just don't want you to make the same mistakes I did."

"Like what?" Bucky couldn't imagine making Steve Rogers-type mistakes. Steve, who up until his mid-twenties, couldn't even talk to a a girl, a woman, a dame, without clamming up.

Steve sighed again, obviously uncomfortable, but determined to finish his little pep talk. "Look. I know that back in Brooklyn, among the kids in the neighborhood, that you always had a little more experience than the rest of us … but just know that going out with girls in this decade, in this century, is different. Women are not so worried about their reputations. Especially past a certain age. They want to enjoy it just as much as we ever did. They have a lot more … freedom. I guess you could say."

"I noticed."

"Have you?"

He shrugged. "Pills."

"Yeah, that's one thing … they're not so worried about being shipped off to a convent or a home for girls in trouble, any longer. Or shotgun marriages at sixteen. Or having to call someone who knows a guy that will hack them open on their kitchen table, in order to quietly take care of things."

"Damn."

Steve narrowed his eyes. "And you're not really going to have to worry about a father ... or a brother, beating the shit out of you, if you look at their precious girl the wrong way, or hear about what you did in the back of a theater."

Bucky laughed. "That happened, didn't it ... I vaguely remember.

Steve nodded, grinning. "Maybe a few times. But ... we missed the 'sexual revolution'."

"Shit. There was a revolution? Sounds up my ally."

His friend gave him a shy smile. "Google it. Or Wikipedia. Even better."

Bucky blew out a puff of air. He needed a smoke. "Alright. Is this the end, Steve? Please let this be the end." He'd wanted to talk to his best friend about this type of thing, but he'd wanted to do it on his own terms. He wanted to be the one to broach the subject. And now that it was happening … he found himself wanting it to be over. Very over.

"Just one more thing …"

Bucky groaned again. "What?"

"Just … when you get back in that saddle …"

Bucky rolled his eyes. _Is this really happening?_

Steve gave him a look that said, _listen idiot_. "Wear a condom."

"What? Why?"

"Just trust me. You don't want to embarrass yourself. Women are a lot more … um, receptive. Engaging. It's a little … uh, stimulating at first. A condom might make you last a little longer," he said, blushing bright red.

"Ummmm …"

"And you know what I was saying about going downtown?"

Bucky just stared at him.

"She's going to expect that too, and for you to be good at it … so, uh. Yeah."

He couldn't believe this was happening. "And how have you made out so far?" Bucky tried not to think about what he'd seen ... on his kitchen island, but it was tough to squash it down.

Steve gave a little shrug and a smug grin. "Lucky for me, my girl doesn't mind giving me lots of time to practice. And she's very good at giving orders. I like being given the orders for once, in that respect."

Bucky groaned again, falling back into bed and hiding his face under a pillow. "I can't believe I'm being schooled on this by Steve Rogers, the little guy that nearly had an asthma attack when Betty Abernathy tried to hold his hand."

He could hear Steve laugh. "You remember that?"

Bucky took the pillow off his head. "Yeah. I guess I do."

Steve stood up, content, about to leave him to get dressed. "One more thing. You should probably talk to Darcy soon … Natasha said that she's worried you're upset with her."

"What? Why?"

"She's just worried about you. Feels terrible about not recognizing that the package could have been a danger."

Bucky then remembered clutching his chest on the floor, losing it like some kind of crazy person. "Oh, god. She probably thinks I'm three quarters insane."

Steve laughed. "No. I think you just need to talk to each other. Darcy doesn't think you're any more insane than the rest of us. Buck … have you met the people who live here?"

He thought about all the checkered pasts, all the neuroses, all the regrets … of the people he lived amongst. "Point taken." He then looked down at his cybernetic prosthetic, completely in view, as he was just wearing an undershirt. He flexed his vibranium hand. It was so severe, cold, mechanical. "But I'm the only one who can't hold her with both arms."

Steve slowly shook his head, giving him a sad smile. "That's not true, Bucky. Not true at all."

* * *

**~~*...*~~**

Darcy sat on the couch in the Avenger's living room, trying to concentrate on an episode of Ancient Aliens. It was a part of her research, trying to figure out what outlandish stories ended up being true. The guy with the crazy hair was actually right a lot more than people gave him credit for. She'd woken up in the morning after her little brush with mail-induced candy-flipping, and was feeling a bit strung out. Bucky still hadn't woken up, and she was itching to make sure he was okay … and feeling like everything was her fault.

She was also angry. Angry at who sent it. Angry at the job she was doing. Angry at Tony for insisting that type of work be done, when she would rather just be a normal hacker for the Avengers, getting them in and out of places without leaving a trace. Concentrating on getting the 411 on actual bad guys and nefarious plans. And she was also angry at herself, for not being as good as she thought she was. Someone had discovered that she was the one doing the research. Someone had recognized her. Her cover was blown. She supposed it was only a matter of time, after going out on missions, that someone would start adding it up. Not all mutants and people with superpowers were at all happy to be "helped". Especially not the type who's files she handed over to Tony. The files she gave Steve, on the other hand … that was a completely different story. One that was only between her and Cap. And she intended for it to stay that way.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?"

Darcy whipped her head around to see Natasha standing next to the couch, absolutely perfect in just jeans and a white v-neck. The woman looked as if she were constantly being followed around by a personal stylist. Darcy sighed internally. "Of course," she said, patting the cushion next to her.

Natasha took the offer. "I want to talk to you about Bucky."

Darcy instantly frowned, worried. "Is he okay?" she asked, alarmed. "I feel terrible. Shoulda known better. He hasn't had a setback, has he? I mean, I know acid can make a person go loony tunes, and that much acid was like, Syd Barrett-levels of tripping. Like, going on a trip and never coming back. Oh, god … is he still tripping?"

Natasha held up a hand. "He's fine, absolutely fine. I promise. No, it's about something else … can I be honest with you? Candid?"

Darcy peered at her, narrowing her eyes. The Black Widow was about to be "honest" and "candid" with her? "Um, sure."

The "honest" widow gave her a little smile. "Steve and I … we've been … seeing each other."

She shrugged. "So you're finally admitting it?"

"You knew?"

Darcy laughed, shaking her head. "No. Not really. But the two of you are always digging at each other … eye-fucking each other, giving little smirks to each other … I figured it was only a matter of time."

"I was worried that you might have feelings for him. I know you're close."

She waved that bit of nonsense away. "Pshhh. Steve's one good-looking motherfucker, but dating him would have been like dating my grandma's boyfriend. It's like, I'd always be afraid of Peggy coming back to haunt me. No way, man. No way."

Natasha laughed. "You knew her for a long time?"

"All my life. Steve was hers, even though he wasn't there. She kept him close to her heart," Darcy said, then looked over at her friend. "But I'm glad he has someone now. To keep close to his heart. He deserves it. You both do."

Natasha nearly blushed. "This is all still very new."

Darcy raised a brow. "Steve isn't the type of guy to be casual. If you're telling me it's a thing … then it's a thing."

"Well … you're the only one who knows. You and Bucky, now. We're still taking it slow."

"Noted. I won't tell a soul." She then tilted her head, thinking about the long lost Banner. "What about ... um, nevermind."

Natasha laughed. "What about Bruce?"

Darcy shrugged.

"He left. Simple as that. I'm not even sure what that was, to be honest ... but I'm not going to think about it too hard. I don't give second chances ... especially to a person who thinks they're staying away 'for my own good'."

"Yeah," Darcy said. "That's total bullshit."

"I can take care of myself. Make my own choices." Natasha then smiled, reverently. "Steve respects that."

Darcy ducked her head. "N'awwww, stop it. You're making my black heart grow three sizes ... like the grinch or some shit. Seriously, you're keeping quiet about Steve? You should totally shout it from the mountaintops. No? Okay, fine. My lips are sealed."

Natasha gave her an appreciative smile. "Thank you. I'm telling you about Steve, because I want you to know that I understand what it's like."

Darcy raised a brow, the mood changed. "What do you mean?"

"Dating a guy from a different time."

"Wait … what? Me and Bucky aren't ..."

Natasha just gave her a look. One that said she should know better ... than to try and lie to one of the world's best spies.

Darcy sighed. "We haven't even kissed yet … well, on the mouth. Or gone on a date. I mean, we were supposed to … you know, before the whole psychedelic package of doom. He's probably wondering now if I'm worth all the trouble. What with him tripping balls on the floor because of me."

"He likes you Darcy, trust me. He's only comfortable around a handful of people, and you are one of them. And I've seen even less people make him smile. Steve, you, Scott ... and maybe Clint. The episode yesterday is not going to be a deterrent for him, if anything it will hit all of his protective instincts. Someone tried to hurt his girl," she smirked.

"I'm not his girl."

"Do you want to be?"

She shrugged. "Can I be someone's girl without feeling like I have a stamp on my forehead? That says 'property of James Buchanan Barnes'?"

"Of course. Like I said, I understand. They're both very progressive for two men who grew up in a very different time, but there's still going to be ingrained instincts. You'll have to be patient with Barnes … but he'll learn."

"Umm …" Darcy frowned. She appreciated Natasha's little pep-talk ... but she felt that it was perhaps a bit premature.

"I also want to give you a bit of advice."

Darcy was very confused. "Okay?"

"I'm not sure how experienced Bucky is with women. Obviously, it's been awhile for him … his handlers from HYDRA never let him have romantic relationships, let alone romantic feelings ... or even sexual feelings."

"Whoa. Bummer."

"Right? And before all of that, when he and Steve were young … things were a lot different. Everyone assumes that Bucky was a big-time player, and maybe he was for _that_ time, but that doesn't mean he's experienced in the way of someone from _our_ time."

Darcy shook her head, still frowning, still confused. "What are you saying?"

Natasha gave her an evil grin. "I'm saying … Darcy. Do you want him to worship the ground you walk on? Go down on him. He'll be following you around like a little lost puppy, from there on out."

Darcy sat back and crossed her arms, mystified. "Are you serious?"

Her friend laughed. " _Very_. It wasn't nearly as common as it is today. Now, it's something that's a part of a healthy sex life … but back then, it was taboo. He'll find it very erotic. You'll have him eating out of your hand … or, other places."

"Now way," Darcy gasped. "So … Steve? He'd never ... _really?_ "

Natasha shrugged. "It was after a successful mission a few months ago. We were both needing to blow off some steam … and it just happened. I swear to you Darcy, I've never had someone so determined to give me pleasure … after I gave it to him. It was like some kind of competition. He needed to be able to give back. Wouldn't rest until he could. And now? It's like … it's all he thinks about. He's like a kid in a candy shop. So … willing to just … I ... I mean … and the endurance. _Darcy_."

"Wow," she said, with a dazed look on her face. "I've known you for a few years now, and I've never seen you stutter."

"There really is something about dating a guy from the 1940's"

"Wow. Too bad everyone can't have one."

"I know. It's a wonderful thing."

Darcy's brow furrowed. "You really think Bucky isn't that experienced? I mean, look at him. How the hell?"

Natasha pursed her lips in thought. "He probably fogged up plenty of windows in the backseats of cars, felt up his fair share of girls. I'm not at all saying he's a virgin … as of course, people had plenty of sex back then. But it was different. Girls were afraid of getting pregnant. They're still afraid, but back then the fear was so much stronger. There was little to no access to contraception for a girl ... and you were ostracized if you got pregnant out of wedlock. Birth control was archaic, compared to what we have ... like diaphragms? And even those were only prescribed to married women. I suppose women with a lot of money, of course, would have had access … but Steve and Bucky were two kids from Brooklyn … it was just, another time. And even if a girl avoided getting pregnant, no one actually wanted a girl with a bad reputation. Not for keeping. So it all just kept girls ... afraid."

Darcy looked down. "Shit. I never thought about it. Like that."

"We've never really had to."

"It's always seemed like the Victorian age was so far away, you know?"

"It seems like it to us. To Steve and Bucky, it wasn't."

"Shit. So when Steve and Bucky were born, women weren't even allowed to vote. _Fuck_. And all those poor girls … wanting to have sex with Bucky, but didn't ... damn." Darcy laughed, looking up at Natasha. "Hey, reason why I'm a feminist number two-hundred and seventy-four … control over my own body, so that I can have mad sex with James Buchanan Barnes, or whoever, whenever the hell I want. Oh, thank you, first and second-wave feminism. I have much to be grateful for, apparently."

Natasha nodded her head slowly, grinning. "Oh, you have no idea how grateful ... _yet_. I can't even explain it in words, how good … just … if you go down that path? Me and you need to have a drink, afterward."

Darcy smiled, blushing. "It's a date."

* * *

**~~*...*~~**

Darcy lay back on the couch after her discussion with Natasha, still dazed. She took her phone out and started playing Candy Crush to take her mind off of Bucky … plus, she needed to get farther in the game than Clint, as they'd made a bet. First one to a certain level had to do the other a favor. For Clint, it would probably involve 24 hours of Assassin's Creed, while drinking about 20 pots of coffee, and listening to Phil Collins. For Darcy, it would involve archery lessons. There was something about watching Daryl Dixon on The Walking Dead that really made her want to learn … so that maybe if she ever met Norman Reedus in person, they could trade cross-bow stories over several beers.

But then she got a text.

_"We're still going out. Being drugged doesn't get you out of our date. I'll pick you up at 7."_

Darcy stared at her screen for a little while, Candy Crush completely forgotten.

_"HOLY SHIT ARE YOU OKAY? O.o"_

_"I'm fine, beautiful. About to be even better. We're going out."_

She nearly dropped her phone. Since when did Bucky text? Since when did he nickname her "beautiful"? _Ummmmm ..._

_"What are we doing?"_

_"I'm taking you out."_

She rolled her eyes.

" _That doesn't help, James Buchanan. I need to know what we're doing, so I know what to wear."_

The girls he dated probably wore dresses to everything … but she wasn't wearing a dress if he planned on taking her to a baseball game, or whatever it was that dudes from the 40's did for fun.

_"Dinner and a movie."_

_"What movie?"_

_"You don't trust me to pick out a movie?"_

Darcy shook her head. Was this what it was like, going out on dates with dudes back in the day? They just expected you to love whatever it was they wanted to do? She shrugged to herself and thought, _what the hell_.

_"Okay, but just know that if you take me to some douchey Michael Bay action flick, or a tear-jerker, I'm not going to be happy."_

There was no response after that. Darcy sighed, got up from the couch, and headed to her room. She also wondered what one should wear to dinner and a mystery movie, with a guy who last dated when Roosevelt was in office.

_What have I gotten myself into?_

She then thought of Natasha's advice … which now only made her more nervous. Sure, Natasha could be confident … but Darcy's mind took a bit of a different turn. Would Bucky think she was a total slut if she ever told him her 'number'? Okay, so Steve didn't have a problem with more experienced ladies, but Steve was … _Steve_. Bucky could be different.

Darcy stood in front of her closet, with her head in her hands.

_What have I gotten myself into?_

7 o'clock ended up coming quick. So quick, that she was still applying eyeliner when she heard Jane call her name, telling her that Bucky was at their door. It was seriously strange, actually being picked up. Going on a date. She was used to just meeting guys for dates, at a bar, a coffee shop, a fucking T.G.I. Friday's … nothing this formal. It felt strange … and yet oddly comforting. It felt official ... and like he'd cared enough to think it through.

She walked in the living room to see Bucky standing there … with Jane and Thor on the couch, both of them trying not to grin like a pair of fucking idiots. His hair was down, still slightly damp from a shower. He was wearing his normal black jacket and glove on his left hand, but someone had gotten him to buy a trendy pair of jeans and a nice belt. Also, shoes that were not some form of combat boot. He was wearing chucks. Actually wearing black chucks. Darcy's heart skipped a beat. He looked … _delicious_. She wanted to lick him … _everywhere_. Natasha's bit of advice, as to where to lick him exactly, suddenly came to her mind, and she probably blushed bright red. _Perfect_.

"You look beautiful," he grinned, as she picked up her purse, all of a sudden feeling like she was tripping again. She'd decided to wear a simple black dress. Nothing too fancy, but not too drab either. Something that said, "hey, I have a nice rack, but you don't get to see all of it … right now."

"Thanks," she mumbled. "You look good, too. I think we're doing alright for being a bit strung out."

"How's your head?" he asked, looking concerned.

"Still a little spacey. You?"

He smiled. "I'm good. Took some _ibuprofen_. Did you take your medicine?"

Darcy's cheeks burned. "Um," she blinked.

"I made her take some Advil," Jane said, from the couch. "And B vitamins."

She shook her head as she walked up to Bucky, and took his hand, leading him out of there.

"James," said a booming voice.

They looked back to see Thor pointing to his eyes, and then pointing back at Bucky, saying he had his eyes on him. He was also trying very hard not to burst out laughing, it seemed.

"Whatever, Thor," Darcy said. "I have my eye on _you_. And infinity stone or no, If you ever put Jane through another ice cream-only phase, I'm gonna kick your ass."

He laughed, rubbing his chin. "Duly noted, sister. Duly noted. And if James ever makes you drown your sorrows in frozen desserts, then I will have no choice but to find out what lightning from Mjolnir would do to an arm made of metal. I have been quite curious, actually."

Darcy pushed Bucky out the door. "He's just kidding," she said, seeing the small look of confusion on his face. But she wasn't totally sure.

**~~::::::...::::::~~**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, man ... you have no idea how much I researched the history of blowjobs for this chapter. Also, sex in the 1930's and 40's. And the sexual revolution. Went way beyond my women's studies classes in college ;-) Me and Lefty, we've been pondering over it for weeks. We could probably write a thesis. 
> 
> Or a fic involving Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers ;-)
> 
> Next up ... first date continued ... and fake-married trope introduced.


	8. The plot, it thickens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we learn a little more about Darcy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, you guys :-)

 

**~~::::::...::::::~~**

* * *

After a slightly awkward private car-ride into the nearest town, Bucky and Darcy were now seated at a table, in a trendy little Tuscan restaurant he'd picked out, having a slightly awkward time. It all just felt a little too formal for Darcy, a little too put-on. She wasn't used to this shit. Dating for her, was sharing a pitcher of beer and playing darts. Or almost dying together in an alien invasion and/or attempt at destroying the universe ... and then making out. But this ... this was different. This was very deliberate. They were following a very strange order … meaning, something a little more traditional than what she was used to. They'd progressed from strangers, to colleagues, to friends … to _this_. This was also the dude she was talking to about Tolkien, in front of a dying fire … the guy she spent a whole night listening to music with. Now they were "dating". On a date. Wearing date clothes. Ordering date food. Though it didn't seem as if Bucky knew what to eat, given that he'd been scowling at the menu for a full ten minutes.

"Can't find anything you like?" she asked, curious.

He gave a frustrated sigh. "It's not that."

"What is it?"

"Too many choices," he mumbled.

Darcy set her menu down, as she'd already known what she wanted for about nine of the ten minutes they'd spent looking at dinner options, instead of at each other. "Well … what do you normally like?"

He squinted, as if it would help him choose. "A lot of this is different than the Italian food I'm used to … I thought I'd be more familiar with it. What the hell is burrata? Sweetbreads risotto? Squid ink linguini? _Squid ink_?"

Darcy looked down at her menu again … many items had trendy ingredients, like goat cheese spheres. She was pretty sure that he had been familiar with Southern Italian cuisine, if she guessed right, and Bucky figured he'd know Italian food because he grew up in Brooklyn. Italian food prepared for the most part with American ingredients … and during the depression. A sort of fusion due to necessity.

She didn't want to come across as patronizing or as a know-it-all, so she decided against giving him a crash-course in trendy Italian food. She felt a little bad for him, as he'd obviously picked the restaurant out, because he assumed he'd be familiar with something, for once.

Darcy gave him a little smile. "Burrata is cheese, and fucking amazing … I highly recommend it. Any cheese is pretty great, especially Italian cheese, ya know?. I'm not sure about the squid ink, though … I haven't been brave enough to try black pasta yet. I'm always afraid that my teeth will end up looking like Calypso's in Pirates of the Caribbean. What do you think, Bucky … are black teeth sexy?"

He looked up at her and grinned for the first time since they'd been seated. "If anyone could pull it off, it would be you."

She grinned back. "Sweet talker."

"Maybe. But how about sweetbreads," he said, looking back down at his menu. "That … sounds good. I guess?"

_Should I tell him? Maybe I shouldn't tell him. I should probably tell him._

"Do you know what sweetbreads are?"

Bucky shrugged.

She grimaced. "It's a gland, in a calf's neck."

He looked confused. "A _gland_?"

Darcy nodded.

"Doesn't sound sweet or like bread."

"I know, right? I ordered it once and learned the hard way. They're actually pretty damn good, but once I found out what they were, the spell was broken."

"What are you getting?" he asked, looking a bit exhausted.

Darcy smiled at him. "Pizza."

He perked up at the mention of pizza, turned the menu around, and looked at what they offered. But he only ended up frowning again. "Why is there pizza with gorgonzola, acorn squash and arugula? What's arugula … and pecans? Nuts on pizza … what the hell …" He looked defeated.

She tried to help, subtly. "Do you like meat? Just get the meat-lovers pizza."

He rolled his eyes. "There is no meat-lovers pizza."

"There's always a meat-lover's pizza, they're just in disguise at restaurants that try to be all fancy. You'd probably like the prosciutto … or the carbonara."

"Carbonara?"

"It's code for bacon and egg. What's not to love about bacon and eggs on pizza …"

He smiled, looking up at her. "Alright. What are you getting?"

"Well … I was going to get the margherita, which is a fancy way of saying cheese pizza, with basil and tomato sauce. Mmmmm, tomato and basil … but now I think I have to get the pizza with acorn squash and pecans. We can share. Try new things."

"You haven't had it?"

She shook her head. "Squash on pizza? I don't think so. But I'll try anything once."

Bucky raised an eyebrow.

"Foodwise, James Buchanan. We're talking about food here." She raised an eyebrow back at him. "Maybe."

He smirked at her, biting his damn lip, as the server came up to ask if they wanted wine.

_Why does he do that? It's too much. TOO MUCH._

Darcy nodded. "Oh, hell yeah we want wine." Bucky picked up the extensive wine list and looked like he was about to have a coronary.

She looked up at the waiter. "Just get us a bottle of whatever the house red is … as long as it's dry."

After the server nodded and went away, Darcy resisted giving Bucky a mini-lesson in ordering wine, instead choosing to keep things simple. "They're just trying to show off with a list that long," she said. "House wine is always the most bang for your ... buck."

She then busted out laughing. "Bang … for your _buck_."

Darcy blushed bright red, still laughing. "Sorry, I'm a dork … that was inappropriate. And I haven't even had any wine yet."

Bucky shook his head slowly, going back to the smirking. "No. You're …" his voice trailed off, unable to find the word to say.

"Ridiculous. I know."

"No, not at all. You're just so … you."

Darcy blushed all over again, not sure what to say to that … but the server ended up saving her, bringing their bottle of wine, and taking their order.

They went back to the semi-awkwardness, as they sipped at their wine. Bucky then asked what seemed to be a stock-question. Darcy wondered if he'd made a list of topics like she had once.

"So have you and Jane been good friends for awhile?"

She gave a little shrug. "A few years now."

"How did you meet her?"

Darcy looked down into her wine. "That's classified."

"Really."

She grinned. "What's your clearance level?"

He frowned. "I don't know … what's yours."

"It was level 7. Doesn't matter anymore though."

Bucky looked down. "Sorry, you don't have to tell me. It's just … you probably know a lot more about me and Steve, than I do about you and Jane. Just because of ... "

"Shows on the History Channel about your epic friendship?"

He nodded, looking slightly embarrassed.

"It's cool, Bucky, I just don't talk about it too much. I feel kinda bad about how I met Jane, but there wasn't much I could really do about it. They could probably have a special on the History Channel about me and Jane's epic friendship, too. As a part of an Ancient Aliens episode. The very special one about Thor and Loki. The guy with the crazy hair keeps trying to get an interview."

He looked up, interested. "What do you mean?"

She swirled her wine around in the glass, deciding to be honest with him. Throw caution to the wind, and all that shit. "Technically, Jane was my first solo mission," she said, looking up at Bucky. "I was still in training, and SHIELD wanted to send a Culver student to New Mexico, to intern for an astrophysicist. One that was getting just a little too big for her britches. Miraculously, and with maybe a tad bit of hacking, I was the only one that applied to work with her," she winked at him. "Anyway. I was supposed to observe and help where I could, report back to SHIELD, as she was on the verge of discovering and perhaps developing an Einstein-Rosen bridge."

He raised his eyebrows, surprised. "Does Jane know?"

Darcy nodded. "Oh yeah. We were there for first contact with an alien lifeform together. Friends who meet aliens together, stay together. Especially after tazing them and running them over … twice."

Bucky frowned. "But … you blew your cover."

She gave him a little shrug. "Eh. Coulson pissed me off. I wasn't giving him all the intel he wanted, so SHIELD agents stole all of our stuff. He didn't listen to me, wouldn't stand back and observe, insisted on creating a mini Area-51 and making things worse. Looking back on it, I wonder how much of it was actually Agent fucking Sitwell, reporting to Hydra. They became obsessed with Mjolnir, affectionately dubbed 'myuh-myuh' by yours truly … and I ended up trying to help Thor out instead. Even Clint was starting to root for him. And after that whole mess, I told Jane the truth."

He shook his head. "You didn't get in trouble for that?"

She gave him an "as if" look. "Nah. They never knew. Jane never let on that I'd told her. She's completely trustworthy. Usually, if I didn't want SHIELD to know something, they didn't. You could say that I have a very particular set of skills. You can't leave listening devices around me … I will find them. It infuriated the higher-ups, but they knew what they were getting into when they recruited me."

Bucky looked mystified. "You sure about that?"

Darcy nodded. "SHIELD has … or they _had_ , a bad habit of recruiting people that could be a real threat to them, if they worked for someone else. So they ended up hiring some really shady people, if only to keep them out of enemy hands. They'd try to reform them, or whatever. It's kinda dumb if you ask me, I mean … remember the Hydra problem? I rest my case."

He peered at her, like he was looking at a total stranger, all of a sudden. "How in the world were _you_ a threat to SHIELD?"

She took a sip of wine, wondering if it was making her a bit more honest than what she intended to be. _Nah,_ she just felt compelled to be open. Darcy liked Bucky. She already knew quite a bit about him, so she figured it was only fair if he knew about her. They were "dating", after all.

"I wasn't exactly a threat", she said. "I was more of an annoyance. I uh … well, I used to run a pretty successful side-hustle, making fake ID's and passports in college. Some of them were for people that wanted to stay off the grid, for one reason or another. Like, not terrorists or anything, more like … closeted mutants, famous people who wanted to be anonymous, _maybe_ a mafia kingpin or two. Eventually, SHIELD was like, 'we can either arrest you, or you can start working for us, putting your hacker skills to use for the greater good … and might we add, that we're only giving you this opportunity because you're a legacy.' I was like, sure, whatev."

Bucky gave her his Earth-shattering mega-watt smile. "Wow."

"Wow, what?" she grinned.

"Wow, I never would have guessed that you were a criminal mastermind."

"Really?" she asked, tilting her head. "I figured it would be pretty obvious," she winked. "Dude. I was hardly a criminal mastermind. I was just too good at making fake ID's. The last technically-illegal one I made was for Thor, actually … he used it in New Mexico. His name was Donald Blake. What," she smiled at him. "Do you not like me anymore?"

He laughed, slowly shaking his head. "Not at all. Just surprised. I've been trained to read people … get a handle on them, from the beginning. And I've never been able to do it with you. And you continue to … have these … layers."

Darcy shrugged. "Like I said. Particular set of skills. Most people write me off as a side-kick. The assistant. The intern. The funny flippant girl with the big tits. People underestimate me … and I use it to my advantage."

He sat back in his chair. "How many people know?"

"Hm. Tony, he's always known. Me and Tony kinda go way back … he's like the big bro I never wanted. Jane knows, of course. Some of the Avengers. Steve, Thor, Clint, Natasha … and then Coulson and Fury. That's about it."

 _Everyone else is dead_.

He gave her a confused look … a face full of expression. Surprise and wonder. "Why tell me?" he asked, quietly.

She took a sip of wine, wondering the same. "Well … I figure, you're part of the team now. I should let you in on a few things, as you should know who you're working with … and then, you can feel like you can tell me things too, if you want. You don't have to though."

Bucky peered at her, pushing his hair back behind his ears, in a nervous gesture. "Tell you things," he repeated, warily.

Darcy gave him a little smile. "Yeah, like … what movie are we seeing? It's killing me, not knowing."

His eyes seemed to flood with relief. "The old theater down the street," he said. "They're doing a John Hughes marathon. You mentioned liking 16 Candles … that you and Jane can recite all the words. I asked Steve about it, and he said that John Hughes was partially to blame for the modern woman's dissatisfaction with men. He said you told him that. I figured I better see it with you, to learn what I'm up against."

Darcy beamed, blushing and looking down into her wine. "Bucky," she said, looking back up at him, shaking her head. "You're so …"

_Fucking adorable._

"What?" he asked, knowing he'd made her melt.

"You're so smooth … when you want to be."

"Old habit, I suppose. I have to earn my kiss goodnight … somehow."

"Hm," she took a sip of wine, her lips lingering on the glass for a second. "Just a kiss, huh?"

A smirk and a darkness of the eyes, passed over his face. Darcy had seen that look on him exactly once … when he'd told her he wanted her, in the hallway, when they were both tripping. But before he could say anything, the server came with their food, and the discussion then turned back towards more benign date-conversation, and Darcy laughed while Bucky tried pizza with acorn squash, arugula, and pecans. The look on his face reminded her of that of a 5-year-old's, being made to eat spinach. With a chaser of broccoli.

After a bottle of wine and a belly full of pizza, they made their way outside, and walked down the main drag to an old neighborhood theater. It was the kind of theater that only showed a few movies at a time, had special midnight viewings of movies like The Rocky Horror Picture … and marathons, such as Indiana Jones or the Back to the Future trilogy. For the John Hughes marathon, they were to be showing 16 Candles, Pretty in Pink, and the Breakfast Club … but Darcy wasn't interested in staying for the whole thing. She only wanted to watch 16 Candles and more importantly, perfect human Jake Ryan … and then she wanted to get the hell out of there. She had other plans for the rest of the evening … such as getting Bucky out of the shirt he was wearing, as she was dying to see the muscles underneath. The muscles she'd only felt, while unfortunately clothed, huddling for warmth with him back at the cabin. She was also dying to see what his cybernetic arm looked like, what it felt like … what _all_ of him felt like.

Darcy may have spent the past few weeks going back and forth about her feelings towards Bucky, but the attraction had always been there. And perhaps she'd been trying to convince Jane, and herself, that the attraction was harmless … that it would never actually lead anywhere. After all, most of the dudes who worked with the Avengers were dead-sexy and attractive in one way or another. She'd spent a good deal of time thinking that Sam was pretty hot … and then when Lang showed up, she found herself giggling at him and his awkward adorableness. But Bucky was different. She had a connection with him, an honest-to-God connection with a man born 70-plus years ago … a man who fell off a train in fucking 1943, and spent decades as a sometimes-frozen mind-controlled assassin for an enemy organization.

_What?_

Whatever. Eventually, she'd found herself thinking about him as she thought of Steve … as someone who just sort of woke up in the 21st century, and continued on from there. She didn't see them as 95-year-olds, or as granddads … she saw them as dudes who had their lives ahead of them. Dudes who had only gotten a little stuck for awhile. Well, that was putting it very nicely, _but still_. Bucky wasn't the assassin. Or he wasn't _just_ the assassin, to her. He was a guy who was still trying to figure everything out. He may never be who he was before the war, but that was fine with her. No one went to war and returned the same. She certainly wasn't the same person that tazed a crazy homeless man in the desert … who just so happened to be a god of legend, years earlier.

It wasn't the man-out-of-time thing that made her hesitant to start something with the guy known as "The Winter Soldier". She was hesitant because of the line of work he'd chosen to be in. She was used to strange origins and people who were seeking redemption, of a sort. What she was worried about, was starting something with another person who might not come back home. Someone who might go out on a mission, and it would be the last time she'd see them … the only thing returning being a pile of ash. She couldn't stand the thought. Letting her heart go, and it never coming back.

But Bucky had already died and come back to life. Like Steve, he seemed to be pretty damn resilient … and if Darcy was going to go off her self-prescribed love-substitutions of chocolate, a vibrator, and perhaps a little Aragorn fan-fiction … she might as well do it with someone who, against all odds, lived. A guy who _lived_. And, sure, he was still finding himself … but so was everyone else. So was she, certainly. And she wanted to see what they'd find together.

Darcy was also wondering what she'd find when she finally unbuckled his nice new belt. Unzipped his …

_What?_

She bit her lip and looked over at him. Darcy realized that he'd grabbed her hand, and they were walking down the sidewalk, swinging their arms languidly, like a pair of idiots smitten with each other. He grinned down at her, as they stopped in front of their destination. It made him look years younger, smiling like that … with the neon lights from the theater and surrounding establishments, reflecting in his blue-grey eyes. He was a spell and she was under him. She wanted to be under him … while he was on top ...

_What?_

_Do I really want to watch this movie? Or would I rather see his naked body … like, now. Hmmmm … decisions._

Bucky blinked at her, looking a bit nervous. There was a pleasant autumn crispness in the air … affectionately described by Darcy as "hoodie weather", and the chilliness had brought out a flush in his cheeks. He looked unbelievably gorgeous in his leather jacket, delightfully snug jeans, and just the right amount of scruff. He wasn't quite as bearded as Steve had been lately, but it was rugged enough to be enticingly male, without making her think of the new wave of "lumbersexuals" that were all the rage in hipsterdom. James Buchanan was her idea of fucking perfection, which in all honestly, wasn't perfect at all. Darcy liked that about him. She wasn't looking for perfect, didn't believe that it existed, and hell, she certainly wasn't perfect. What she was hoping for was a good fit. A classic combo … a flavor that complimented hers. The tomato to her basil. The lime to her Corona. The peanut butter to her chocolate.

Bucky bit his lip, yet again … like he was contemplating something, and then seemed to come to a decision.

He began to slowly lean down.

_Holy shit, is he gonna kiss me? Now? He's not gonna be a gentleman and wait until the date is over? YES! He's so totally gonna kiss me …_

Darcy grinned up at him, closing her eyes, as his face neared hers. She was ready to bend her knee, for her foot to pop up, like a lady in a black and white film. She could almost hear the crescendo of the romantic music in the background … Puccini was practically playing in her head.

Then a smoky female voice invaded. "Hey guys, we're looking for a pair of love birds. Know where we can find some?"

_Record scratch._

_Bye-bye Puccini._

Darcy opened her eyes and looked over to see Natasha and her Corvette pulled up to the curb, her head hanging out the window … perfect bouncy red hair swinging in the wind. Steve was sitting in the passenger seat, grinning.

Bucky did not look happy. "What are you two doing … following us?"

Natasha flashed an evil smirk, eyebrow raised. "Course not … but you're always on call, Avenger. And we need Darcy's expertise. Suit up … missions don't wait for first dates."

Darcy rolled her eyes. "What do you guys need?"

Natasha's evil smirk only got more evil. "I think some congrats are in order. We need a pair of newlyweds to put on a show. And we all know that you're one of the best at putting on a show, Darcy."

Steve leaned over, looking a bit guilty, but also in on the Black Widow's plans. "Get in guys, we don't have a lot of time."

"Nope," Natasha said. "You don't want to miss your honeymoon."

"Honeymoon," Darcy huffed, as she stomped over to the car and opened the door. "I better not see you two cockblocks on my honeymoon. Where are we going anyway?"

"A resort in Mexico, popular for newlyweds." Steve said, as Darcy and Bucky slid in the back seat. "We'll give you details on the way, but your cover is that you were just married. The man we need intel on, will be there with his mistress. We need you to plant the usual devices, Darcy. Me and Nat are too easily recognizable."

"What am I supposed to do?" Bucky asked.

Natasha shrugged. "Be a convincing trophy husband."

Darcy grinned as Bucky scowled ... he was probably hoping that his new mission would be something a little more substantial. Something involving knives and rocket launchers, perhaps. But she could get used to such an arrangement, as Darcy preferred the more subtle and non-explodey operations. A honeymoon, a trophy husband, and a gorgeous beachy resort in Mexico.

_More bang for your buck._

**~~::::::...::::::~~**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: fake married ... and first kiss. On the mouth. Finally. Probably.


	9. Fake-married

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which our heroes go on a mission for the greater good, as a married couple.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so there are serious moments of ridiculousness in this chapter, and yet I regret nothing. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy the silliness. 
> 
> Thanks for reading, you guys.
> 
> (Ooo, edited to add, [HERE](http://www.trashydiva.com/shop/trashydiva-bonitadress-cactusrouge#) is a link to Darcy's beachy 1940's-inspired dress. It's from pretty much my fave store in New Orleans.

**~~::::::...::::::~~**

* * *

Bucky gave Steve a quizzical stare, as they both sat in their seats on the jet to Mexico, facing each other. Natasha was up front piloting and Darcy was next to her, giving them a bit of space. Girls on one side, boys on another, like a grade-school dance. They'd packed light, and had a brief planning session back at the facility. He wasn't geared up as he normally was, before going out. He wasn't weighed down with firearms, as he'd once been as a living weapon … he was just wearing the basics, what he always wore. A handgun at 6 o'clock, in a holster on his belt, and a knife, concealed in a compartment in his jacket. It felt strange, not having a mission to eliminate, to kill, but yet to observe. For security. It felt good, but almost as if something were missing, like he was forgetting a piece to the puzzle, like he was leaving the house without his keys. He felt too light. Bucky also wondered if the whole thing was entirely put-on by Natasha and the man sitting across from him, with a satisfied and smug look on his face.

Bucky jutted out his chin. "What you got cookin' in that brain of yours?"

Steve took a breath, gave a languid raise of the eyebrows, a tilt of the head, a slight shrug of his massive shoulders. "I thought you wanted to go out on missions, Buck."

He gave him a surly stare. "You sound like Stark."

His friend acted as if he was hurt by the observation, but then grinned. "I'm not conspiring against you, I just thought you'd be the man for the job. Would you rather another agent pose as Darcy's husband?"

Bucky frowned. "Well … no."

"The two of you seemed to work well together before … your previous assignment was a complete success. Why not put those two variables together again. You seem to play off of each other convincingly."

"I wouldn't put it that way."

Steve sighed. "Okay. How about the two of you have a certain chemistry?"

He shook his head. "Does being 'just married' have to be our cover?" Something didn't seem right about acting as if he and Darcy were more together than what they were. He was trying to not hope too much. Trying to not be let down if things didn't work out.

Steve frowned, looking slightly concerned. "Are you uncomfortable with this?"

Bucky turned his head, looking out the window. "No. I just don't want this … whatever this is with Darcy … I don't want it to start out contrived."

"It's not like she doesn't know, Buck. You're both in on it."

He flinched, searching in his head for a way to explain, hating that it was hard to find the right words to express himself at times. "I realize that, but sometimes it just feels like … everything, my whole life, is one big cover. For so long … I wasn't real. I'm beginning to feel real things again, be a real … person," he shut his eyes, not wanting to talk about it, but also needing to make Steve understand.

"I want us to be real," he said. It was that simple. It was why he'd fought so hard through the fog of drugs from the mystery package, back in the hallway, to keep his hands to himself … he wanted every step that he took with Darcy to be real.

Bucky opened his eyes and Steve sat forward. "Of course you want it to be real. All of this is very real." He sighed. "I'm sorry, I probably wasn't thinking this through. It's almost like … our work can actually be … well, fun, when it's me and Nat. It's usually a duty, it can be terrible in the worst way, but with her … sometimes it's not so bad. I guess I just thought it might help you ease your way into it. Going out there in a different capacity. Back on our side. I'm sorry, Bucky, we can switch, if you'd be more comfortable. I can alter my appearance, as much as I can, and you can monitor with Natasha."

Bucky looked up. _Steve and Darcy on a honeymoon? No fucking way_.

"Um. It's fine, I'll do it."

"I don't want it to be like going to the dentist for you, Buck. But it should be a relatively easy job. All Darcy has to do is plant a few devices on the subject. He's just a money guy, not a HYDRA agent."

He nodded. "What are the details on the subject again?"

Steve's face twitched in annoyance, as he obviously loathed the man. "Ronald Klump. He seems to have funneled a lot of money into HYDRA interests. He was in on the group trying to buy the Pym technology ... the plans that Lang foiled. We need to figure out exactly how much they got. Scott thinks most of it was destroyed, and the secrets are still only in the hands of Hank, but we want to make sure. The man has traveled to Cozumel under false identification with his mistress, to throw off the media."

"Is this something Darcy figured out?"

Steve nodded. "Yeah. She's good at that stuff."

"She told me."

His friend grinned. "She did, huh? She must really like you."

Bucky couldn't help but smile a little. "Maybe it's just because I'm on the team now," he said, being a bit self-deprecating.

Steve sat back. "Nah. There's a lot of people on the team who don't know. She likes it that way."

"How did you come to find out?"

His friend took a deep breath, looking down. The kind of deep breath he took as his mind mulled over what truth to tell, and what truth to omit. "The original Avengers know," he stated. "She was tasked with helping to get Jane out of the U.S. for the Battle of New York, and they had to travel under different names, for various reasons."

"Does Jane know that?"

Steve shrugged. "Jane and Darcy have their own world. I've never pried into that world. I'm sure Jane knows, but I don't know the extent of it."

"They have their own world?"

Steve nodded. "They have their own language. Sorta like …"

"You and me," Bucky finished the sentence.

"Yeah," he smiled, a bit shyly.

"And now she's the computer genius for the Avengers?"

Steve hesitated. "That's a way of putting it, sure."

"Are you not telling me something?"

He put up his hands. "I don't know what I wouldn't be telling you, Bucky," Steve said, looking nervous. "She works with us because Tony has always known her and trusts her. I trust her completely. The Avengers work with Darcy, and what's become of SHIELD, with Coulson … they work with Skye, she's their resident computer genius. Who is also now … Inhuman, apparently."

He could tell that his friend wasn't spilling everything. Bucky knew Steve inside and out. Even when he didn't know himself, he still knew Steve. "Darcy isn't … Inhuman, is she?"

Steve laughed. "No. Darcy isn't exactly fond of Inhumans lately, or rather, their ongoing saga. Listen, do you want to work this job with her, or not."

Bucky peered at him. Steve was obviously trying to change the subject. "I already told you, it's fine," he said, a bit short.

"Buck," Steve said, leaning over and slapping his knee, before standing up. "I can't believe that _I'm_ the one telling you this, but … you should lighten up a little."

Bucky felt compelled to laugh in Steve's face. "If I'd've known that getting laid was the key to removing the giant stick from your ass this whole time, I woulda tried a lot harder at getting you a girl, a long time ago."

Steve shook his head, smiling. "Oh, you tried."

"I know. And it would have helped if you'd actually, oh … I don't know, _talked_ to the girls?"

"Sure, sure. And I suppose that's the key to getting the stick outta your ass, these days? Getting you laid? I'm only trying to help."

He blinked _. Is this really happening? Steve Rogers is trying to get me laid?_

"Fucker."

Steve tapped his fingers to his chin. "Yes. And you should try it, too," he said, as he walked over to step into the cockpit.

Bucky picked up an empty water bottle on his armrest and threw it at his head. "Smart ass."

The bottle was instantly caught and thrown right back at him. "Prude," he could hear Steve say.

Bucky's mouth fell open at the insult. If there was one thing in this world that James Buchanan Barnes was not, it was a prude.

He then smiled slowly, realizing that there were certain truths about him. Things that were real. And in reality, Bucky was no prude. It was good to remember that, to really _feel_ it. It also felt good that Steve seemed comfortable with teasing him again, like in the old days. They had always been affectionate through insults. Steve apparently no longer felt compelled to walk on eggshells around him, treating his feelings like he was handling a porcelain doll.

Bucky sat back and crossed his arms.

_I'll show ya._

* * *

**~~*...*~~**

He stood in front of the huge sliding-glass door that led out to a balcony, watching the turquoise waves wash up languidly on the beach. The dusk made all the colors more vibrant, as the sun set. The rays shining through the floor-to-ceiling windows were painting the room with tones of deep oranges and yellows, and he was taking a moment to soak it all in. He wanted to enjoy little moments like this. Moments he'd never been allowed to have … moments that he'd never fully appreciated before the war.

As soon as Bucky and Darcy had gotten to the resort, and checked in, they'd needed to prepare, as they hadn't had a lot of time. She had instantly gotten on her laptop to hack into the hotel restaurant's reservation system, and put them at a table right next to their subjects. She'd then went into the bathroom to get ready, while he waited outside feeling like a giddy schoolboy … or rather, like an idiot.

Natasha and Steve were good, he'd give them that. Not only was the suite on the ostentatious side, but Nat had even thrusted a garment bag into his arms, as they'd parted ways at the airport, as they could no longer be seen together. "It's a suit tailored to your measurements," she'd said, "specifically designed to accommodate your favorite weapons. Think of it as a wedding gift." He'd slipped it on and found that it fit like a glove ... and had the added-bonus of secret pockets for knives and other gadgets. The waist in the trousers were perfect for a hidden holster at the small of his back. Bucky felt comfortable, oddly enough. Comfortable and armed.

He then heard the bathroom door click and he turned around, stunned. Darcy was wearing a dress that was cut in the style he was once used to. Something a girl might wear when he was young, though it was also modern. It was a red beachy print, the neck having a low-cut v-neck, and the skirt floated past her knees. She wore her hair down, relaxed and wavy, past her shoulders, and had painted on red lipstick. She was breathtaking.

"What do you think?" she asked, grinning and twirling around. "Does this say honeymoon at the beach? Classy, but not trying too hard?"

He stood there staring like he'd been hit over the head for a few seconds, spaced out. "You look beautiful."

"Thanks," she said, looking him up and down. "You look damn fine, yourself." Darcy then looked out the windows, like he'd been doing. She took a deep breath. "They really put us in the honeymoon suite, didn't they … I can't even."

"Um, looks that way," he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. His tie all of a sudden was a little too tight, and the temperature in the room seemed to be a bit warm. He began to reconsider leaving his hair down. "So, should we uh … work on our story?"

Darcy shrugged. "We can wing it. We're not trying to convince a pair of spies that we're newlyweds, just a pair of assholes."

He laughed. "I appreciate the confidence."

"Come on," she said, picking up her purse and taking his hand. "We're gonna be late. They're doing this touristy mariachi thing tonight, and I'd kinda like to see it. There's just something adorable about dudes in frilly bolero jackets."

As they walked down the hall and into the elevator, Darcy took a small box out of her purse and opened it. "Oh, Bucky, you shouldn't have," she said, jokingly. She then took a rather large diamond ring out and put it on the appropriate finger.

"Wow," he said, looking down at the sparkly gem. "I really spared no expense."

She giggled. "Natasha gave it to me when we were leaving the airport. It's not real … but I needed a big rock and a nice dress, so that the rich dude's mistress would feel compelled to talk to me. I can't look like just any plebeian who got a discounted vacation package off of expedia.com."

Bucky smiled down at her, as they neared their destination. "You look amazing, beautiful … like a million dollars."

She visibly blushed, looking down. He liked making her blush. "Thank you," she said. "Now, when we sit down, we have to talk about the wedding and hope that the mistress overhears us … apparently she's been pushing this pompous idiot to divorce his wife and marry her … so weddings will interest her."

He nodded. "Alright. Where did we get married?"

She tapped her finger to her lips, thinking. "Hmmm, not in a church, like our grandparents wanted … but right on the beach. We were like, hey Grandma, this is where God hangs out, it's paradise, so therefore it's even better than a church."

He chuckled. "Sounds good."

Darcy took his hand again as they walked through the entrance of the beach-side swanky restaurant, and up to the hostess. "Mr. And Mrs. Warren Harding," she said, proudly.

Bucky rolled his eyes, but grinned. She was never going to let the whole being named after a U.S. president thing go.

He leaned down to whisper in her ear, as they were shown to their table. "And what's your first name, Mrs. Harding?"

"Carrie," she whispered back.

"Why Carrie?"

"That was the name of Warren G. Harding's mistress … seemed fitting," she winked.

* * *

**~~*...*~~**

Darcy sat at their designated table and watched as Bucky nervously smoothed out his delightfully-fitted grey suit, before sitting down. He looked drop dead gorgeous … like a fucking GQ spread. She then looked over to see Mr. Krump and his plastic surgery-loving mistress already seated next to them. The man was engrossed in his phone, and the woman was looking around at the atmosphere, smiling like a Miss America contestant, and in a dress similar to what one would wear, as well. A very sparkly number on a damn beach. She looked as if she was enjoying the show, however ... the spectacle of it all, being out and about with her rich married boyfriend.

She took out her phone for a quick text to Natasha. " _Seated. You'll be tuned in as soon as I plant the bug. I'm not turning my earpiece on."_

" _Noted. But make sure you let Bucky turn you on."_

" _And that right there is why I'm leaving the earpiece in my purse."_ She then also threw her phone in her purse.

Darcy was dead-tired, as they'd gotten very little sleep in the past 24 hours, but she was ready for a drink. When the waiter came up to take their order, she had to stop herself from ordering a pitcher of bright blue margarita. There was nothing like a great blue drink.

 _Stay classy,_ she thought. _Stay classy._ "I'll take a margaria. Best you have," she said, smiling up at the waiter. "Top-shelf tequila."

"Same," Bucky said, as the server then looked to him.

Darcy had no qualms about charging outrageously-priced drinks to the expense account that Tony paid for. She looked over at the rich guy's girlfriend. _Ha_ , she thought, as she then glanced over at the subject's orange leathery skin and terrible, nay frightening, toupee.

 _My billionaire is so totally better than your billionaire_.

When the server came back with their drinks, she took a sip, and decided that it was time to put on the show. She sighed, "it's so nice to finally be here, _Warren G_." Bucky raised an eyebrow at the name. "I mean, the wedding was perfect … but I'm ready to start this honeymoon," she said, giving him a sultry grin.

She could sense the bleached-blonde head next to her, turn towards them at the mention of a wedding … but Darcy happened to now be more focused on Bucky's darkened expression, at the mention of getting something started.

"You did make a gorgeous bride," he said, leaning forward. "But I'm ready to get you out of these elaborate dresses of yours, and into … well, you did pack your bathing suit, didn't you?"

Darcy laughed and took a drink. "What's the point, baby? Are you really planning on leaving the room to do anything but eat?"

He tilted his head, as if in a challenge. "Darling … I'm definitely planning on eating … _out_."

She nearly choked on her margarita.

Darcy cleared her throat. "Let's just start with dessert then, shall we?"

_Is it getting hot in here? Of course it's hot, it's Mexico and we're on a damn beach._

"I'll be having dessert back in the room," Bucky said, grinning, ducking his head to be exactly at her eye-level. "Peaches and … _creamy white thighs_ ," he purred, too low for anyone else to hear.

_Is this guy for real?_

She blinked at him and realized that her hand was clutching the table-cloth.

_I want to sit on his face. I want to … sit. On. His. Face. Those perfect and pouty lips … dear Goddess in heaven … for God must be a woman, to create those sinfully bee-stung lips._

She then mentally gave the Goddess in heaven a thumbs up. _Good job!_

Darcy took the cherry garnish out of her margarita and put it to her lips quite suggestively, while looking him in the eye … then pulled it from it's stem with her teeth and slowly chewed it. "I think we should at least have dinner," she said. "We're gonna need the energy."

Bucky stared at her as he took a very long drink, and then set it down, doing his lip-biting teeth-dragging thing that was beginning to drive her fucking crazy.

The whole song-and-dance thing needed to stop, as they had a job to do. At the rate they were going, she was one more innuendo away from just saying "fuck it" to the mission, dragging him back to their room, and letting Bucky have at his dessert. She threw back her shoulders and tried to shake the lust out of her head … then flashed her left hand, holding it up to Bucky. "I think this looks pretty good on my hand," she said, loudly. "What do you think, Warren?"

"A beautiful ring, for a beautiful dame," he said, just as loud, taking her fingers and kissing them with his right hand, as his gloved left hand was being kept out of sight, in his lap. Darcy noticed that he seemed to have become an expert at that … keeping his left hand from garnering too much attention, by using it as little as possible. The realization gave her a little tug at the heart.

At the sight of a blindingly-huge diamond ring, the woman at the next table gasped. "Oh my God," she exclaimed, in a high-pitched voice. "That ring is beautiful, isn't that ring beautiful Ronald?"

Darcy nearly winced the woman's shrill vocal range, but flashed her a smile, as the subject looked over and gave a distant nod. "Thanks, we were just married," she said, looking over at Bucky, tilting her head and smiling so big, her cheeks hurt.

"Oh, how _romantic_ ," the woman sang.

After initial contact had been made, the rest was easy. The two couples exchanged names, though Mr. Krump always seemed completely bored with his new acquaintances for the evening. Darcy and Bucky acted as if they'd never heard of him, as the mistress, whose name was apparently Illana, talked about all of her plans to marry her boyfriend … though Carrie and Warren Harding never let on that they knew he already had a wife.

As the evening went on and more margaritas were ordered, they were asked about their fictional-wedding's details, right down to the colors and cut of the bridesmaid's dresses. Darcy then situated herself, getting everything in order, and got up to sit in Bucky's lap, asking Illana to take a picture of them with her phone. She wanted to get the mission details over with before she got too drunk. A chill ran up her spine as Bucky's arm came around her middle and gave her a playful squeeze, his thumb brushing the underside of her breast.

_Fucking hell._

They both smiled for the camera.

She took her phone back, looking at the photo. They both looked genuinely happy and completely comfortable with each other. It was actually a great picture. She couldn't help but smile at it.

"Thanks!" Darcy said, she then pointed at Ronald. "Here, give me your phone, I'll take one of you guys … for your romantic vacay memories."

The man hesitated, obviously uncomfortable with handing over his phone, but Darcy was banking on Illana's reaction to the idea of getting her picture taken.

"Give her your phone, honey! Of course we need photos!" she practically yelled, in her shrill baby-voice.

He reluctantly took the phone from its permanent spot on the table, as it was never in his pocket and put away, so that he could actually pay attention … and he handed it over to Darcy, with a constipated smile and a nod. "Of course," he said, gruffly.

"Oh my god," Darcy mused, taking the phone, and turning it over in her hands. "This is the new iPhone that's not even out yet."

"Um. Yes," the man said, perking up a bit, liking that Darcy had noticed his exclusive toy. One that the general public couldn't lay a hand on.

_Ha. As if this little hunk of plastic could impress me. My billionaire's StarkTech is so much better than yours._

With a sleight of the hand, she stuck a tiny round listening device on the phone. It was completely see-through and fit right over the camera lense, so that not only could Steve and Natasha listen, they could also see any of the pictures he took.

Illana walked over and sat in her boyfriend's lap like Darcy had, for her romantic photo evidence, and Darcy held up the camera, taking a picture, then handed back the phone.

"Oh, thank you," the woman said, as she took the phone and looked at the picture, admiring it. Darcy found herself feeling a little sorry for the girl, as she seemed to be a nice person, but everything about the situation, except for Illana's enthusiasm, was a ruse. The man obviously had no intention of ever marrying her, as he had exactly zero interest in what she had to say, and was only interested in her as a piece of arm-candy, and most-undoubtedly as a piece of meat.

"So when did you know?" the woman asked.

"Huh?" Darcy frowned, lost in thought.

"When did you know that you might marry him?" Illana asked, smiling like a little girl, dreaming of wedding days.

Darcy, who was still sitting in Bucky's lap, turned her head, looking over at him, their faces very close to one another. "Umm … it was when I realized that he was actually listening to me when I talked to him. That he cared about all of my crazy stories, and believe me, some of them are pretty crazy." Her lips turned up into a little smile. "He didn't just see me as the silly funny girl ... and I found that I could be real with him."

It was as if Bucky's blue-grey eyes were searching for the truth in hers. And she found that she was being honest … she was telling the truth.

_God, or rather, Goddess … his eyes are gorgeous … and so close-up._

"Awww," Illana sighed. "That is precious. What about you, Warren. When did you know that you might marry her?"

Bucky blinked up at Darcy, never taking his eyes off of her. "It was when she played me a song," he said, softly, the vibration of his voice flowing through her. "It was my favorite song, one that I hadn't heard in years and years, and I realized … she knew who I was. Even when I wasn't sure a lot of the time … who I was."

Her heart starting beating at about a million times a minute.

"Oh my God, Carrie … he's so romantic. He's definitely a keeper. Especially with that diamond on your finger."

Darcy frowned. _Wait … who is Carrie? Oh, that's me. I'm Carrie. I am fucking Carrie. And this man is Bucky Barnes and he is fucking … fuck. What is he?_

"He is," she said, quietly, still staring at Bucky. "He's a keeper."

He then gave her a look that both broke her heart and sent a fiery warmth down her spine and between her legs. It was a look of adoration, and then pure lust … his face could be so damn expressive when he wanted it to be, flashing several emotions across at once. All she wanted to do was kiss him. Take him back to their room, tear his clothes off, and kiss every inch of his Goddess-given gorgeous body. She put her arms around his neck, tangling her fingers in his hair, and he closed his eyes, as if savoring the feel of it. And she knew deep down that none of this was a ruse at all anymore.

"Hola, Señora, would you like to hear a song?"

Darcy looked up, frowning at the accented voice that was speaking to her. "Huh?"

It was a mariachi, wanting tips for songs.

"Oh," she said, taking in the man with his frilly bolero jacket, and giving him a wide and probably fake smile. "Yes. I will pay you and whoever else a hundred dollars, not pesos, if you can play Regulate by Warren G. Thank you."

The man gave her a wide smile and a nod, turned around, and went back to his musician bros. Darcy figured that would be the last time she'd see him, as she didn't actually think any of them would know a mariachi-version of a Warren G. and Nate Dogg rap song.

Illana then picked up her glass of champagne and started tapping it with her fork.

"Wait … what?" Darcy was confused.

The woman rolled her eyes. "It's what they do at wedding receptions, silly! Didn't your guests do it at yours? Kiss your bride, Warren. Kiss her!"

Bucky gave her his crooked smirk, while his arm held her tighter, his hand grabbing the fabric of her dress. Darcy realized that she was actually dizzy, though it had nothing to do with the three margaritas she'd had. "I suppose it's tradition," he said, shrugging.

Darcy smiled slowly at him through her lashes, and bent her head down, touching her lips to his. He then put his cybernetic arm around her, and used his flesh hand to cradle her neck, bury fingers in her hair, his thumb brushing her cheek. She could practically feel him grin into their kiss, but then it was as if something almost electrical happened, and she wrapped her arms tighter around his neck and sighed. He tasted like sweet tequila. So good. And he smelled so good. She just wanted to wrap herself in him. They both parted their mouths slightly, touched tongues, and all was lost. They melted into each other, compelled by a strange earthy and primal force. It was as if she'd been kissing this man for years, their lips moving so naturally together. There wasn't anything left in the world, there was only Darcy and Bucky … making out in a chair, with her sitting in his lap, their hands clutching at each other, and not caring that they had an audience. They were the only two people on the beach, as far as they were concerned. It was like a tension had finally been released, but another more stronger one took its place.

She then realized that there seemed to be some sort of mariachi music playing in the background, as if they were in a cave or a tunnel, the sound bouncing around, as if she were in a dream … and she was slowly pulled back to reality.

" _It was a clear black night, a clear white moon, Warren G was on the streets, trying to consume, some skirts for the eve, so I can get some funk, just rollin in my ride, chillin all alone …"_

_Wait. Is someone playing a mariachi version of some G Funk Era with trumpets and a guitar?_

Bucky and Darcy's lips slowed, reluctantly parting, and then stared at each other, dazed. He looked high with lust, and she was pretty sure that she looked exactly the same.

" _Just hit the Eastside of the LBC, on a mission tryin' to find Mr. Warren G., seen a car full of girls ain't no need to tweak, all you skirts know what's up with 213 .."_

They then blinked and looked up to see mariachis surrounding their table, with big grins on their faces, some singing Regulate in perfect harmony, to the sound of trumpets and guitars.

Illana was clapping, screaming with excitement, bobbing up and down in her chair to the tune. Darcy hid her face in Bucky's neck, laughing, as the song went on.

" _I'm tweaking into a whole new era, G-Funk step to this, I dare ya … funk, on a whole new level …_

" _The rhythm is the bass and the bass is the treble …"_

She could feel Bucky's chest rumble with laughter as well, as several men in frilly bolero jackets and sombreros serenaded them.

_Tony's money has never been spent on a greater cause. My billionaire is so much better …_

**~~::::::...::::::~~**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: Darcy and Bucky go back to their honeymoon suite and that's all I'm sayin'.
> 
> Mariachi/rap song was Regulate by Warren G. It's a classic.


	10. Fake honeymoon suite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy and Bucky go back to the room. That's really all you need to know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is pretty much an entire chapter of ... well. There's some good stuff. No plot, really. So yeah ... sorry about that no plot thing.

 

**~~::::::...::::::~~**

* * *

After Bucky and Darcy charged dinner to their room, and she handed well-deserved money to the mariachis, they said their good-byes to their now completed mission, and took off for their honeymoon suite.

Darcy was buzzing, from alcohol and from arousal, and as soon as they entered the elevator to go up to their floor, Bucky was on her. He was pushing her up against a wall, obviously in a state as well. Knees bent, he grinded his hips into hers, his hands flat against the wall on either side of her head. He gave her a look that just said, _pure sex_ , and leaned down, putting his lips on hers once again, in a movement that she could only describe as cat-like. A cat observing its prey and striking. This time, there was no melting, there was nothing slow or gentle or tentative … there was only urgency. This kissing involved pressing and tongues and teeth scraping against the skin of necks, as the need to explore each other had surpassed basic ordinary needs like breathing. They only wanted to feel.

"Bucky," Darcy whispered, as it was the only thing she could do through the deep heavy breaths her body had been compelled to take, because of being so stimulated by Bucky's lips, which were traveling towards the v-neck of her dress, following its point to her breasts. His right hand came down from off the wall, cupping one, and she sighed at the first touch of somewhere that wasn't PG. They had finally graduated to PG-13, and she was really looking forward to the R-rated stuff. And really hoping that there was some NC-17 in her future.

He groaned, as his hand kneaded, and pressed his hips harder into hers. "Bucky," she repeated. "There's a camera in here."

"Don't care," he said, roughly, as his hand traveled down to her thigh, and then dragging up the fabric of her dress. "I got you covered. It can't see you. Only I can see you." And then the hand was between her legs. "Feel you."

She moaned, nearly swooned, lost her balance at being touched there by him. It had, needless to say, been awhile since she'd gotten any action, and he'd been amping her up for weeks. Finally giving into it was rendering her a bit helpless, as she probably couldn't even stand up straight if she wanted to. Her body needed him … needed him on top of her, as much as she needed blood to pump through her veins. It was the only thing that made sense to her in that moment. Her legs naturally parted for him, as she raised a thigh ... the thigh that didn't have a small handgun strapped to it … and hitched her knee around his hip.

Darcy's forehead dropped to his chest, as his fingers rubbed through the satiny material she was wearing, and she wished she had the power to dissolve clothing into thin air, as that satiny material, was at the moment, the fabric she most hated in the world. She felt surrounded by him, safe … the male scent of him mixed with his cologne was heady, making her more intoxicated than what she was.

The elevator dinged, the doors beginning to open, and she had to fight to get her head above the water, as they'd both been drowning in each other. Bucky stood in front of her a moment, collecting himself, and smoothed her dress down, as she lowered her leg from his hip.

_Please do not let there be anyone waiting for this elevator. Please … pretty please._

Darcy looked over to see the hallway empty, and breathed a sigh of relief. She then straightened her shoulders, and walked out of the elevator with as much dignity as a person can have, with probably totally mused hair, smeared lipstick, and looking thoroughly turned-on, eyes half-open. She realized that Bucky hadn't followed her just yet ... he still had his back turned, his left hand propped up against the wall … so she held the door as it tried to shut.

"Bucky?"

He gave a little laugh. "Sorry, I just … don't think there's much oxygen going to my brain right now."

She grinned. _More like, there's not much blood going to your brain, as it's all probably in your …_

He stood straight and turned around, marching out of the elevator and taking her hand on the way, tugging her down the hallway with purpose. She had no problem walking a little faster, having to keep up with his long legs, as she wanted to get back to the room just as much as he did.

_Is this really happening? Are we really gonna do this?_

_YES. YES WE ARE._

He stopped in front of their room, and turned around, eyebrows raised. "You have the key," he said, with a kind of seriousness in his voice, like … _come on slow-poke, what's your problem. Move!_

She blinked, mesmerized by the look on his face, one that said " _I want to sex you … I want to sex you, now. Not in five minutes, not in five seconds … now_."

"Oh, right," Darcy said, shaking her head, attempting to think coherently for the amount of time needed to take the room key-card out of her purse. She walked up to the door and attempted to swipe the card with a steady hand, but it was a bit hard, since Bucky had come up behind her, his arms snaking around her waist, settling on her hips, and pressing them back towards his. He'd also taken to giving her ear a small bite, letting his teeth drag until it was released, and moving on to kiss down her neck.

"Bucky," she breathed. "I need for my brain to function for a sec … and I can't think straight ... with your lips doing the thing."

She could feel him chuckle against her shoulder, where he was tugging her dress down over her shoulder. "Sorry," he said, his breath warm against her skin, the scruff on his face adding a friction that was driving her crazy. "I can't help you right now … busy."

Darcy raised a brow, deciding to be evil right back, and arched her back, pushing her ass against him, and to the place where all the blood in his body seemed to be congregating. He groaned and she grinned in satisfaction, a sort of pride rising in her chest, and lower, towards the base of her spine, at the reactions she was able to get out of him.

She swiped the card, the door opened, and they practically tumbled inside the room. She slipped out of her heels, and her hand automatically went to his tie, as she wanted to get him out of his suit. He reached behind his back, pulling his gun out of its holster, and laying it on a desk.

_Oh yeah, I forgot ... we're armed._

She looked just below his belt. "So is that a dick in your pocket … or are ya gonna shoot me?"

Bucky grinned, holding up his hands. "That was my only one."

Darcy reached her hands between her thighs and took off her holster, laying it and her small gun, right next to his. It was a "his and hers" little collection of guns.

His lips parted, looking like he'd just been stunned. "I think that might be one of the … sexiest things I've ever seen," he said, taking the glove off his left hand and tossing it on the desk as well.

_That was pretty damn sexy, too._

She walked back up to him, putting her hands on his chest, as he stared down, watching her … and she slipped his suit jacket off his shoulders. He didn't care when it fell to the floor, didn't care about hanging it up to prevent wrinkles, he just bent down, quite easily picked her up, and she instinctively wrapped her legs around him. His lips were on hers the whole time, as he walked them over to the insanely large bed that overlooked the view of the ocean … she could vaguely even hear the rhythm of the waves as they washed up on the shore. The push and the pull.

Bucky knelt on the bed, taking her with him, lying her down gently. He wasted no time, settling between her legs, and she could feel him kick off his shoes, hearing them tumble to the floor. They took their time, enjoying the pleasure of kissing each other, exploring with tongues, moving together with a push and pull that was pure primal instinct, pressing into each other, learning how their bodies felt … how his broad shoulders above her made her feel safe and protected, how his larger and longer limbs made her feel like a red-blooded woman and utterly feminine … his weight on top of her feeling intoxicating and inviting.

Her fingers traveled down his back and between their bodies, going for his belt. All she'd been thinking about for the past hour or so, was unbuckling his buckle … but his hand stopped her, taking her wrist and pinning it above her head.

"The only thing in the world, I care about right now," he said, his lips traveling down the valley between her breasts. "Is hearing you come. Watching your face."

Darcy may have stopped breathing for a few seconds after he said the words … and the pulse between her legs certainly became more amplified. As she nodded her head, giving consent to his desire _to make her come_ , she decided to give him the lead. She decided to let him have all the control, let him decide what he was completely comfortable with, as she knew it had been a long time for him. A long time in which he had no control.

He let go of her hand, as he sat up on his knees, slipping cybernetic and flesh fingers into the thin sides of her panties, and he began to pull them down. "These are …" he frowned. "So … small."

She laughed as he took them all the way off, and held them up. A black and satiny thong, purchased during the favorite holiday of women everywhere, the Victoria Secret semi-annual sale. "Used to granny panties? Chastity belts?" she teased.

Bucky dropped the thong to the floor. "I could get used to this," he grinned, hovering back over her.

"I think you're gonna have to," she said, her breath hitching as his hand ran up the inside of her thigh. "Unless you start dating actual … grannies … _fuck_." She gasped as his fingers ran over her, no barrier of satiny fabric.

He gave his own gasp. "You're so … smooth."

Darcy couldn't think coherently any longer, and probably shouldn't have attempted sentences. "Wax," she managed to say.

"Huh?"

"Nnnng … some girls … go bare."

Bucky lie next to her, a leg over hers, propped up by his cybernetic elbow, and his right hand slowly teasing her, his eyes fixed on her face.

"I could get used to this," she said, eyes closed.

"You will," he said, in her ear.

She arched her neck, reacting to the pleasure of his fingers, and she nearly lost her damned mind when he sank two inside. He hissed as she cried out, as if he was experiencing the feel of it as well.

"Bucky … I need …" She moaned, cutting off her plea, as he trailed his slick fingertips back up to her clit.

"What do you need?"

"I need … you … right … _there_."

He coaxed her with just the right amount of pressure, just the right amount of speed … slow and steady.

_Fuck ... he's good at this._

Darcy tried to keep her eyes on him, as the look he was giving her could probably actually cause a girl to spontaneously orgasm, as it was one of intent … and such pleasure that it bordered on pain, and a beautiful concentration. She found that she couldn't do it any longer though, when she was close. Her eyes wanted to be shut, practically rolling back in head, her body arching, stretching in pleasure. When the tension finally spilled over, her mouth opened in a gasp, and she didn't hold back. She was very vocal in letting him know exactly how good he was making her feel ... exactly how good the climax felt, flowing through her.

Her brain was vaguely registering that he was being vocal as well, and she opened her eyes to him groaning, his lower-lip between his teeth. "Fuck … you're beautiful," he growled, ducking his head to kiss the skin between her neck and shoulder.

Darcy took several breaths, coming down, enjoying the feeling of being high from release, tingling and subtle vibrations running through her. She languidly moved her arms and took his face in her hands, bringing him up to kiss her, and after regaining her strength from the lazy afterglow of orgasm, she threw a leg over his hip, rolling them over. She sat up, straddling him, grinning down, amazed at how clothed they still were.

She was about to remedy the whole being-clothed situation, and went to unbutton his shirt, but noticed his sharp intake of breath, as she began her task. His hands were gripping her thighs, his breathing heavy, and he was very obviously aroused, as she could feel the evidence of it, as she slowly moved her hips above him, teasing him … but she couldn't shake the subtle look of fear on his face, when she finished with the last button and opened his shirt.

_He's worried about revealing his prosthetic._

Darcy decided again to give him the control, let him figure out what he was comfortable with, so she left his button-down on and made no further attempt to take it off. She desperately wanted this to be good experience for him, all around. So instead, she pulled his undershirt out of his trousers and lifted it up, revealing his stomach … and it's muscles.

_Sweet Goddess in heaven._

She pushed a thought out of her head, of wondering what Bucky looked like in just his hot-as-fuck wife-beater, and the small chain he had around his neck, currently tucked beneath his undershirt. She then bent her head down and put her lips to the skin of his abdomen, feeling the muscles jump at the contact, and hearing him sigh. She moved over to his hip, giving the fucking sinful indentation there a lick, as it was something she'd wanted to do, ever since laying eyes on him. He certainly seemed to like it, because he gave a strangled groan as his hips thrusted up, seeking friction.

Her hands slowly went to his belt buckle, allowing time for him to stop her if he wanted to … but he didn't. She couldn't help but grin, as she undid the belt, unbuttoned his trousers, and gently pulled the zipper down. It was always such a rush, seeing a man at your mercy, as you undress them with a very specific purpose … the purpose of getting their cock in your hand. And the open vulnerability on Bucky's face, the almost-painful anticipation in his features, and then the look of undeniable pleasure, as she slid her hand into his boxer-briefs, wrapping it around him … well, it was a pretty powerful thing.

She began to run her fingers up and down, and he reached above his head, grabbing at a pillow, with a groan, his hips subtly thrusting upwards. "Darcy," he managed to say, through his panting. "Don't feel like … you have to."

Darcy frowned. _What the what?_

She then paused to think for a second … _is he used to getting the return treatment? Did he get it back in the day?_

Darcy knew he hadn't been with anyone in a good while, but she wondered if any of the girls back in his time, had given him as much attention, as he'd given them.

She all of a sudden found a new determination, and momentarily let go of him, in order to push his trousers and boxer-briefs further down. He helped her, slightly lifting his hips, as an expression of disbelief flashed across his face, at the fact that his pleasure was just as important to her … as hers was to him.

Any thoughts of plans for his pleasure, or of anything really, left her brain for a moment, however, as she looked down to see his cock, free of his pants. He was rock-hard, and perfect. She felt compelled to worship at it, and the "V" of the indentations on his hips, the trail of hair below his belly button … so very male, and so very … _beautiful_. His body was a masterpiece, and she was sure that it always had been, none of this had been created through super soldier experiments. This was just him, the scent of his skin, the warmth. Darcy took him in her hand again, slowly pumping him, and his eyes fluttered closed.

"I want to make you feel good, Bucky," she said, softly. "Does this feel good?"

"Nnnhmng." He gave a nod.

She gave him an evil grin, even though his eyes were closed … thinking of Natasha's bit of advice, her piece of wisdom that she'd oh so selflessly dispensed.

"Do you want me to use my mouth?" she asked, speaking low and soft.

His eyes flew open, staring at her for a moment. The moonlight from outside, shining in on the bed, made his blue eyes iridescent. He then licked his lips and gave her a nod.

Darcy bent her head down, and he sat up on his elbows, apparently needing to watch what was about to happen. She decided to tease for a second, her tongue tracing along the dent in his right hip. She then looked him in the eye, as she gripped the base of his cock, and put her lips to the warm and soft sensitive skin on the underside, just below the head. He started breathing even heavier than he already was, made a strangled noise as she graduated to running her tongue around him, and sounded as if someone had punched him in the stomach, as she took him completely into her mouth. He collapsed back on the bed, unable to hold himself up any longer. His eyes now closed in pleasure.

As she found a steady pace, his hand came up to bury fingers in her hair, and she could feel his hips lifting slightly to her rhythm. It had been a good metaphorical minute since she'd gone down on a guy, but was happy to find that she hadn't lost her touch, her technique perfected over time, not lost during her self-imposed bout of abstinence … as Bucky was being very responsive over her talent. He reacted to each push and pull, as if he was surprised by his sensitivity. 

Soon he was rubbing her shoulder. "I'm not … gonna last."

She kept going, as she wasn't concerned with him lasting. She knew he was worried that she wouldn't want him coming in her mouth. But Darcy was never one to do things halfway.

"Gonna … come," he said, almost a whisper. She could tell he was trying to hold back.

"Mmmmmmmmmm," she hummed around his cock, letting him know that everything was okay, and the vibrations from her voice surrounding him, obviously made him spill over. He came with a gasp, as if he'd been holding his breath, and then gave an almost violent groan, as the orgasm shook his body.

She continued kissing him there as he came down, using the time to wipe at her eyes, as proper blow-jobs had a tendency to make her tear up, and subtly run the back of her hand across her mouth. When she sat up, he was sprawled back across the bed, his body lax, as if sedated with a strong drug … and she gave herself a grin and a mental thumbs-up at her evidently still-strong sexual prowess.

Darcy climbed up his body, settling next him, resting her head on his chest. She felt his arm come around her, and she snuggled into that special crook on a man, below his shoulder.

"You're … just … so …" Bucky's brain and voice could barely function, apparently.

She smirked up at him. "Amazing? Wonderful? Awesome?"

His chest rumbled with soft laughter. "Yeah. All those words I can't think of … at the moment."

Darcy closed her eyes, only meaning to shut them for a minute or two … and then perhaps find out how long it would take a super soldier to be ready to go again … but she found herself drifting off into a content sleep. The hour, the fact that she hadn't had much rest, and the three margaritas, had decided to catch up with her.

They drifted off, sated … breathing in and out … to the push and pull of the ocean's waves, just outside.

 

**~~::::::...::::::~~**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: Some plot. And bikinis.


	11. Fun with Darcy and Bucky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fun little chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a lot more to this chapter, but it was so long that I broke it up. It was driving me all kinds of crazy. Sometimes I just gotta be like, Annie, you don't need to post 10,000 word chapters every single damn time. It just holds shit up. 
> 
> So this one is dedicated to Lefty. For reasons. And Rose Nylund. Gold star if you know why ;-)

**~~::::::...::::::~~**

* * *

Bucky woke up slowly, not like he usually did, shooting straight up in bed, for one reason or another. One reason was of course, nightmares, that was to be expected, nothing new. Echos of a voice … " _Sergeant Barnes_."

Another reason, was opening his eyes and not knowing where he was, or who he was, for a few seconds, and becoming alarmed. Usually it came back quickly. He recognized his surroundings, had to remember that he wasn't so cold, was comfortable. _Too_ comfortable. The Winter Soldier never had a bed as soft as the one he currently owned. That was usually what would bring him back … the bed was too soft, something must be different. Something must have changed. He was now a person again … an actual person with a soft bed.

But today he woke up surrounded by strange scratchy blankets and a smile on his face. He turned over on the bed, knowing from the first moments of consciousness that he was James Buchanan Barnes, and the ocean was just outside, as he could hear it. He could feel that at some point in the night, he'd kicked his trousers off and pulled the sheets around him … around _them_.

_I didn't sleep alone._

He looked down, noticing that his undershirt and button-up were still on, which wasn't very comfortable for sleep, but he hadn't exactly been thinking with his brain. There had been tequila involved, in margarita-form. There had been … _happenings_.

At the thought of the happenings, he finally did sit up, taking in the scenery, and realizing that Darcy wasn't next to him. He squinted around the room, seeing a flash of color outside on the balcony. It was her, clad in next to nothing ... and she was throwing ... a ball? A sphere?

_Huh?_

He got up and walked over to the open sliding-glass door.

"What are you doing?" he asked, still a bit groggy from sleep.

She looked over at him, grinning, and picked up her mug of coffee sitting on a plastic table, offering to him. He automatically held out his ungloved cybernetic hand to accept, as it was the one closest to her, not even thinking. He usually made sure to use his right hand for such things, and he stiffened for a second at the realization ... but then gripped the cup. Darcy seemed unfazed, as if it was a completely mundane gesture. Perhaps it hadn't even registered, though he wasn't sure how.

He tried to blink out the sleep and remnants of alcohol, as he didn't want to continue to let his usually-constant guard down.

Bucky looked her over while she glanced out beyond the balcony, and to the ocean. She was beautiful, her hair falling past her shoulders, natural and unstyled, slightly tousled by the breeze. He loved to see a girl as she was, before getting done-up. He always felt that it was a privilege to see a woman before being painted and primed. Everyone else in the world got to see the made-up female mask, while he got to see what was real. The feeling had to have come from his past, when girls would make sure to wear their lipstick even when they ducked outside to pick up the mail.

"Good morning, sleepy-head," she said, turning to him, glowing. "It's almost noon … have you grown into a light-weight in your old age? You were _out_. Like, are you gonna start callin' me Nyquil?"

He took a sip of coffee, ignoring her old-man jab. He glanced over her bare stomach, and the bright-blue brassier that seemed to be held in place by thick … _strings_. It accentuated her breasts in such a way, that it made him question walking outside in boxer-briefs, as they didn't leave much to the imagination while sporting semis

Bucky cleared his throat. "What are you wearing?" he asked, with no doubt a confused look on his face.

Darcy looked down, obviously surprised by his question. "It's a … bikini? It's my swim suit … you don't like it?"

He shook his head slightly. " _Oh_ … yeah. Of course. It's very … um, nice."

She grinned. "You haven't seen a girl in a bikini before?"

Bucky knew that he had, of course … in pictures, movies, magazines. He took another sip of coffee, as he felt as if he was still half-asleep. Probably the tequila. And the … _relaxation_. "Yeah," he said. "Sure I have. Well, maybe not one so up close."

She shrugged. "This one is pretty tame, compared to others."

He looked her up and down. "Hn."

"And what does your swimsuit look like … did you pack your Speedo?" she asked, while turning around and bending down to pick something up. He stared as he held his cup of coffee up to his face, momentarily unable to move. The floral-patterned bottoms of her bikini, covered less than ladies' undergarments had in the days of his youth … and she obviously wasn't the least bit concerned, that he could see the curves of her tush. In the daylight. On a balcony. Practically outside.

He then noticed what she'd picked up, something she'd inflated with water, and he was distracted by curiosity. "What is that?"

Darcy stood up straight, facing him, with a mischievous curl to her lip. He'd learned to love that particular expression on her face. "It's a water balloon … of a sort," she said.

He frowned. "What are you doing with a water balloon?"

She stepped over to the edge of the balcony and pointed down to the beach. "Those two clowns. I'm trying to ruin their good time, like they're trying to ruin ours. And I'm getting them back for interrupting our perfectly pleasant date. Like, I really wanted to see 16 Candles. John Hughes movies and chill. Know what I mean?" she winked.

He didn't know what she meant, so he inched over to the edge as well, looking down, and over the sand. Many people were out wandering along the shoreline, lounging in the hotel beach chairs, or spreading out towels and blankets … but right in front of their room, several feet down, he could see Steve and Natasha. They had camped out and were wearing swimsuits and surprisingly stylish hats. Natasha had to have bought Steve's white fedora for him. No way he picked that out on his own. His friend looked up and waved, grinning. "Hey, come down here!" he yelled. "It's a beautiful day!"

Natasha only sat next to him with one of her signature half-smiles, one that made you wonder what she had up her sleeves.

"Here, give me one of those," Bucky grumbled, stepping back.

Darcy giggled like a schoolgirl, handing him one. And when he felt the transparent water balloon in his hand, he noticed that it had a strange tip that bulged from the top. "Darcy, what is this?"

She bit her lip. "It's a condom."

"Ummm …" His mind blanked for a moment. He then looked over at a chair, and saw several small opened foil packets laying on it, along with more water balloons. Or water _condoms_.

"You … brought all those with you?" Bucky was beginning to wonder what it was she'd had in store for their little impromptu trip, and whatever it was, he was _game_. She also apparently had a lot of faith in him, judging by the number of opened condoms … condoms that were now filled with water and useless for what their purpose was. Bucky was suddenly very unhappy with Steve right at that moment, for compelling Darcy to do such a thing. He desperately wanted to ask her if she'd left at least one unscathed, so he could then take her back to the bed. And slip that bikini right off.

Darcy shook her head, laughing. "No," she said. "I didn't bring them. I got them out of the vending machine down the hall. I mean, they were expensive, but in the end, worth it." She then pointed at the inflated condom in his flesh hand. "Though for the price of one of these, I could have probably gotten a whole box at a store, which doesn't sound right, honestly. Condoms should be cheap, ya know? And probably even free at a hotel like this. Like, don't people pay enough money? They have to pay for the condoms, too? And seriously, some people might need these … there's probably a lot of procreating going on around here, what with these expensive condoms and everything. I firmly believe that people should just be handing out condoms on the street corner, like, _you_ get a condom … and _you_ get a condom, we all get condoms! You know, population control. Less people getting knocked up if they don't want to. Less STDs. Less strain on our resources. Free condoms just makes economic sense. And like, people still whore it up out there, with or without protection, it's not like the stingy condom-police are compelling people to be chaste or anything. People's gonna fuck."

He grinned at her rambling, and at her casual use of the word 'fuck'. It had become quite an attractive habit of hers. She was a maniac, and he loved it. He nodded at her. "Are you still drunk?"

Darcy smiled, looking down, a bit shy … quite uncharacteristically. "No," she said, softly … "just happy."

He couldn't help but smile too, before setting down his mug of coffee and transferring the water condom to his cybernetic hand. He held it low, so no one on the beach could see that he had anything. He then peeked over the balcony again, seeing that Steve was still down there, looking up from behind his aviator shades. He waved again.

Bucky squinted, assessed the distance, and pulled back his arm, ready to throw. He launched the balloon, aiming right for Steve's head. Steve of course, caught it, but there was so much force behind it, that the condom exploded in his face, as he sat there with his hand grasping at thin air.

Darcy bent over, laughing so hard that tears began to run down her cheeks. It was infectious, as he started to laugh too, catching the look on Steve's face. He sat, still in shock, his hand still frozen in the air.

Darcy picked up another balloon and threw it ... and though it didn't have nearly as much force behind it as Bucky's, the condom still exploded on contact, right at Steve's feet. At that one, he hopped up from his spot on a beach blanket and backed away.

"Not bad aim, beautiful," Bucky said, giving her a nod of approval.

"Hey!" Steve yelled up, grinning and trying to shake water off of himself. "It was _her_ idea!" He then pointed at his companion.

"Traitor," Natasha replied, as she leaned back, face towards the sun, cool as a cucumber.

Darcy put her hands on the balcony railing and leaned over. "THAT WAS FOR THE PREMATURE EVACUATION OF OUR DATE, STEVE! IT'S WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU GET A LITTLE TOO EXCITED, STEVE! IT GOES 'SPLODE, STEVE!

Steve's mouth dropped open, and Bucky couldn't help the full-out belly laugh that came out of his mouth.

"Are you guys drunk already?! At NOON?"

"NO!" Bucky yelled back ... "just happy," he said, much softer, so that only Darcy could hear. She reached over to squeeze his hand, and it didn't even register to him which one it was, he just squeezed back, as if it was the most natural thing in the world to do.

 

**~~::::::...::::::~~**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: Beach talk. And a stroll though the mercado.


	12. Sex talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which sex-talk is had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm just gonna leave this here ;-) 
> 
> If you don't remember this little fic, I don't blame ya, but I'm finally back to a regular posting schedule. My job was batshit crazy insane with the hours for several months, and I just recently had my schedule changed, as I didn't have a life, and my relationships were starting to fail due to only seeing co-workers, because I practically lived at work. 
> 
> Anyway! It feels so good to write for this fic again. And to also have a life ;-)
> 
> Thank you, dear readers, for having patience with me. Your encouraging kudos and comments have meant so much to me. This is for y'all. 
> 
> So this chapter has us delving further into Darcy and Bucky's psyches. I hope you enjoy.

**~~::::::...::::::~~**

* * *

Bucky sat back in his lounge chair and crossed his arms, sinking down a bit. All he could think about was Darcy, and how much he didn't want to be sitting on the beach next to Steve, as he'd rather be elsewhere. Preferably in a bed. And definitely not with Captain America. His mind was fixated on what had happened about an hour earlier. They'd walked back into their hotel room from the balcony, as he'd wanted a shower. Darcy had set a small laptop on the table, saying she'd get a little work done until he was finished.

He'd opened and closed his mouth several times before being able to say the words. "So. Do you have any of those um, condoms left?" he asked, before stepping into the bathroom.

"Huh?" she'd said absentmindedly, half of her attention still on her laptop. "Oh, right. Condoms. No. We threw all of them off the balcony. Why?"

"Oh," he frowned, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck. "Well … for … later," his mouth turned up into a smirk, and his eyes were no doubt giving her a sheepish expression.

Darcy slowly grinned as she realized what he was implying, and blinked up from her computer screen. "I'm sure we'll figure something out."

"Right. Yeah," he mumbled, feeling like a lost schoolboy, and not remembering when he'd ever felt like such an idiot.

_Didn't I use to be good at this?_

He'd gone inside the bathroom, shut the door, and proceeded to rinse off the remnants of the past two days, rushing down to Mexico, along with a night of a little light espionage and tequila drinks. When he'd stepped out, freshly clean, he'd had every intention of marching Darcy right over to the bed, in order to 'figure something out', or at the very least, bury his face between her naked thighs, as he gave her the type of focused and intense pleasure she'd given him the night before. But she'd been gone … already heading outside to sit with Steve and Natasha on the beach. So there he was, stretched out in a lawn chair next to his best friend, while the girls sat along the shoreline, in what looked like a very intense conversation. To anyone else, it would have looked completely casual, but to a trained eye, it looked like a discussion that was only meant to _seem_ nonchalant … as their smiles lingered a little too long as they spoke, and they always kept their heads forward, never looking around, to avoid appearing suspect. It was very subtle, but it was there.

He also had to fight the urge to throw a t-shirt in Darcy's direction, every time some stupid kid walked past the girls and ogled, which was beginning to become a little too often for his liking. He wasn't so sure he liked modern swimming suits anymore.

"It's just what girls wear these days, Buck." Steve's voice brought him out of his nagging thoughts.

"Huh?"

"Swimsuits. Girls wear … well," he gestured towards the scene surrounding them. "They don't leave as much to the imagination as they used to."

Bucky leaned forward. "Ya know? That's the least amount of clothing I've ever seen her in … I figured I might actually be lucky enough to catch a glimpse. Turns out, everyone here on this beach today gets to see it, too."

Steve frowned. "You mean … last night … you didn't? See it all?"

Bucky peered at him, turning his head and giving him a stare from behind aviator shades. "You want a play-by-play? Not sure Darcy would want me givin' you all the dirty details."

His friend gave him an incredulous look and a short laugh. "Never stopped you before."

Bucky took a deep breath. "That was … I was a kid. Things like that mattered, at the time. Looking good in front of the fellas mattered. I'm not that person anymore."

A sad smile then formed on Steve's face.

Bucky reached over and slapped a hand on his friend's shoulder. "In this respect, Steve, it's good that I'm not that person anymore. 'Putting away childish things' and all that Corinthians shit the priests used to ramble on about. I have memories sometimes, of stories I told, that had to have been embellished … and I honestly wish they would have stayed blocked. But anyway, to answer your question, no. I didn't see it all. We were too tired to get very far, last night."

His friend visibly relaxed. "Get very far?"

"Well … we did get somewhere," he said, one corner of his mouth turning up into a smug smile.

"Hn. If it's where I think you got, then I can understand why you can't keep your eyes off of her."

Bucky tore his eyes away from the girls and looked at Steve. "Huh?"

He nodded. "You wanna get her back."

_Since when did Steve Rogers understand these things so well?"_

Bucky full-out grinned. "You bet I do."

"And once you do … take it from me, you're not gonna want to stop. Ever."

"I'm already there, Steve. But I'd like to be much further. All the way. Listen to me, 'all the way', talkin' like some stupid kid from the neighborhood."

Steve leaned back in his chair, looking way too pleased with himself. "You'll get your chance."

"Hm. I dunno. Somethin's up," he said, glancing back over to the girls. "They're thick as thieves over there."

"Girl-talk," Steve said, dismissively.

"It's more than that." Maybe he was seeing things that were not there, but he had an uneasiness in his gut, and something wouldn't let him relax just yet, into his fledgling relationship with Darcy. If he could even call it that … as they hadn't exactly had "the talk" quite yet.

_Is she my girl?_

"What are you so worried about?"

Bucky gave a huff, answering before he thought better of it. "Things bein' too good."

"You deserve something good."

"Do I?"

"Course you do, Buck."

"I dunno. She's just so ... I don't know. She's just so …" He couldn't think of the right word. Darcy was a million things, all of them completely alluring to him, but his mind just couldn't grab onto the right word.

"She's 'cool'," Steve answered for him, with a nod of his head.

"Cool?"

"Yeah. People use the word much too often now, and they probably don't even know where it came from, but that's what she is. Both Darcy and Natasha are. They're cool. A lot cooler than us."

Bucky leaned back and stretched his legs. "I think what you mean is, they're a lot cooler than you."

"Right," Steve shot back with a laugh. "You were the one hanging out with the cool cats at the jazz clubs, but didn't that make you the opposite? Since you were the least cool person there?"

"Maybe," he shrugged. "But it sure as hell still makes me a lot cooler than you."

They watched the ocean in a comfortable silence for a few moments and then noticed Darcy and Natasha walking back up to their blankets and beach chairs.

"Ya know, Steve? You say that bikinis are just a thing that girls wear these days, but not all of them. Natasha isn't wearing a bikini."

Steve gave a short loud laugh. "Um. Yeah. Well … she doesn't like bikinis."

**~~::::::...::::::~~**

* * *

 

"Well?"

Darcy and Natasha had left the boys in their beach chairs while they sat in the sand, letting the waves from the ocean come up around their legs, feeling the ebb and flow on their skin.

Darcy leaned back on her elbows, letting the sun warm her skin. "Welllll," she said, drawing out the word. "I don't have much to dish."

"Bullshit," Natasha accused. "You're practically glowing."

"Oh, that's just my sunscreen," Darcy replied, tilting her head to the side. "It's the shimmery kind."

"You're evading."

"Why do you care so much?" She turned her head and looked to see Natasha's smirk. "Do you and Steve have some kind of bet or something?"

"Of course not," Nat said, staring straight ahead. "We just … care about your happiness. Yeah. That."

"Now who's bullshitting."

"You can't bullshit a bullshitter."

"Truer words were never spoken. Wow, Natasha. You just told … like, a truth."

"I did no such thing. Now, back to the main topic. How was the honeymoon suite?"

Darcy smiled, thinking of falling asleep in Bucky's arms. "It was good."

"Good?"

"Yep."

Natasha sighed, and Darcy gave her a wry smile. "We didn't go all the way, dude. Too tired. Maybe a little too tipsy … and I didn't exactly feel like having sex with someone who didn't want to take his shirt off in front of me. I mean, I feel like that would be a little awkward. Naked from the waist down. It would be like, you know, when you have sex with someone, and then realize you left your socks on the whole time? It's not sexy. Though I'm sure Bucky would be sexy in any scenario. Even if he left only his socks on during the main event … I'd probably just find it adorable. Oh, god, that's disgusting. I'm disgusting myself with the adorableness of it all."

"No Darcy," Natasha said with authority. "Socks during sex is never adorable, I don't care who it is. I don't care if it's James Dean in nothing but socks. Leaving them on is definitely the opposite of sexy … but only until you notice them."

"Yeah. It's like you think about your whole sexual encounter again in your head, and realize you actually didn't have the best sex of your life, because it was totally eclipsed by an unfortunate sock misight."

"Totally," Natasha agreed. "But moving on … Bucky didn't want to take off his shirt?"

Darcy shrugged. "I could feel him tense up when I started to unbutton it."

"Just give him time. He'll loosen up. He hasn't been showing the new arm off very much, he's probably still getting used to it."

"Goddess help me, I hope so. You have no idea how much I'd like to take that for a ride."

Natasha laughed. "Oh, I know what you mean."

"Do you?"

"Well … with Steve, I suppressed the attraction for a long time, a very long time … and I knew that if I had to watch him do something crazy on a motorcycle again, I'd be done for … and I couldn't ignore it anymore."

"Huh. You know, I've never really seen Bucky in action before."

Natasha shook her head. "It's definitely sight to behold. So speaking of action, what kind of it did you achieve last night?"

"Nice segue there. I like that … so I'll tell you. I took your advice."

Natasha grinned like a cat who got the canary. "And?"

Darcy put up her hands in a shrug. "I mean, he seemed to like it? He fell asleep afterward."

"Typical."

Darcy laughed. "I put his ass to sleep … now he callin' me NyQuil."

"Do you think Bucky has even heard that song?"

"What, Anaconda? Oh, man. How weird must it be to go from a time when girls were singing pop songs about lame 'bugle boys' to singing about anaconda dicks. Like, you go from this time when people had all these repressed sexual feelings and not many outlets … to a time where all you have to do is turn on HBO, and bam! Titties. All the sex. Everywhere."

"Have you ever noticed that Steve has to leave the room whenever something steamy comes on TV?"

"Yeah … he can't hang during sex scenes."

"He turns bright red and comes up with some excuse, and they're always so lame … he needs to go shine his shield, he forgot to eat, he needs to go to bed early."

"Ha! Shine his shield," Darcy laughed. "Bucky doesn't do it. Bucky stays through all the steamy parts."

"Bucky's definitely more comfortable in that respect. Aside from his prosthetic, you can tell that he's always been comfortable in his body. Steve had to grow into his. There's still a small shy boy in there … I think it's what grounds him, gives him a certain perspective. I think it's why he's able to work so well with women, because people treated him, like people treat us. Like we're weak and frail. He knows better." Natasha's grin then got a little more sultry. "And he might shy away from sex in the modern media, but behind closed doors … that's a different story."

"Nice. Sounds like you've got the best of both worlds. Anakin in the streets, Darth Vader in the sheets."

"No. You're the one with Anakin. And Vader."

"Huh? Oh, right. Robot arm. And he went to the Dark Side," Darcy said, frowning, her mind beginning to wander at the mention of Bucky's arms, and the strange foreign feeling they'd given her that morning. Not exactly a bad feeling … just different.

"What's wrong?" Nat asked, bringing her back to the present.

Darcy shook her head, looking down at the water sloshing around her legs. "I'm not really sure that I can put it into words, but you know when you wake up next to someone different? I mean, Me and Bucky have slept together exactly two times before, but with no play … well, very minimal play, but nonetheless. We just literally slept. Being together was circumstance. But this time was different, it was deliberate, there was like, an unspoken agreement that we were together, and it just felt kinda weird, to be in someone else's arms."

"Someone other than … Ian Boothby?"

"Nah," she shook her head. "That was a fling. It felt weird being in his arms, too."

"Who then?"

"Trip," she said his name almost too soft for Natasha to hear.

Nat regarded her for a moment, then changed her tone from the teasing nature of her previous round of questions, to something more serious and almost sisterly. "I knew you two were close, but not the extent of it. How close were you to him?"

Darcy sighed, figuring she should finally talk about it. "Pretty much as close as two people can get. We were together, but it was very unofficial. At least publicly. We had, what the cool kids call, and open relationship. You know, until things calmed down," she sighed, remembering the futility of that notion. "But things never calm down."

"How long were you together? If you don't mind my asking."

"A long time. We were both in 'the life'. Pretty much born into it. Known each other since we were kids, though he was a few years older than me. We weren't together the whole time, as the job, especially the past two or three years, kept us in different parts of the world from each other. But we'd meet up when we could. And I was always so used to his body, you know? No one else felt right. He became almost like a puzzle-piece that I fit right next to, like I was home in his arms. Like my body was perfectly made to snuggle up next to his. He was tall with lean muscle, long arms", she remembered, laughing softly, as she couldn't quite believe she was talking about Trip. She hadn't been able to up until that point. "Bucky is of course, different. He's more broad, and he's got some junk in the trunk. I mean, his thighs, hello thighlights! Not even fair, those things could kill a girl. Death by swooning."

Darcy started making patterns in the sand with her finger. "I guess I just need to get used to Bucky being the puzzle piece that fits right ... but I never planned on finding another puzzle piece. It's all just, very new."

"Hey, I understand new. It can be scary in our line of work, to open yourself up like that. It's one of the hardest things I've ever done, laying everything out on the table for Steve, especially after Bruce. I can't imagine doing it more than once."

Darcy nodded, surprised that Natasha was being so candid with her. It was nice to be able to speak freely of it finally, as up until that moment, she'd always kept everything bottled up inside. "Exactly. I can't lose someone like that again. I barely made it the first time."

"You're stronger than you think."

Darcy gave a soft chuckle. "That's what he used to say to me, actually. He'd say, ' _girl, you better get your mind right, you're stronger than you let on and we both know it_ '."

"Sounds like he knew you pretty well, then."

"Yeah. And he was my rock. He helped me through so much, and I can't even begin to tell you all the life-saving advice he gave me over the years. It's weird. Sometimes it's even like … I can still hear him … in my mind. It's just memories, but it's like … he's still there. But he's not."

"Darcy," Natasha said, with concern in her voice. "Do you feel ready? To move on with Bucky?"

Darcy waved her hand in a nervous gesture. "Yeah, me being a bit … well, skittish today, isn't because I'm not ready. It's just, when everything happens, you know, the sex. Going all the way ... oh my god we sound like we're in middle school, but whatever. Anyway, I want it to be all about Bucky. About us. I don't want weird thoughts about Trip coming to the surface."

"You sure?"

She smiled. "I'm sure. I'm positive. I think the reason why it took me awhile to get over the whole thing, and why I had the reaction I did, was because I was so fucking angry at Trip for what happened. We'd talked about taking a break from S.H.I.E.L.D., maybe taking a year and traveling around the world together, but it always got pushed back. I was angry because he was always the one pushing it back, he was a workaholic and I hated it. I always felt like his real love was S.H.I.E.L.D, it was the job, not me. We almost never fought, but when we did, it was always about "The Church of S.H.I.E.L.D". And then I was beyond irate that he ended up being killed because of some damsel in distress bullshit, angry that he followed that basic bitch to his demise. And don't get me wrong, I realize that it wasn't Skye's fault exactly, but I hated her, I blamed her, and the depth of my hatred … it scared me."

"It's only natural."

"Maybe."

"Are you still angry?"

Darcy shook her head. "No, it's what I was holding onto so I didn't have to actually grieve, didn't have to say goodbye just yet. But I've made my peace with it. I started to think that even if Trip was still alive, we wouldn't actually end up together. We'd be relegated to 'first love', not 'true love'. It was hard admitting that."

"So what you're saying is, even if Trip were alive … you'd still choose to be with Bucky?"

Darcy slowly nodded. "It's weird, because he's from a different world, a literal different world, or time period, but me and Bucky are more alike. And he's signed up for this whole Avengers thing because he's searching for some kind of redemption, but I can tell that he doesn't bow down to the 'Church of Avengers'. 'The life' ... it's not also like his religion. And that's comforting, even though dating another guy in this line of work isn't something I ever wanted to do again. I didn't want to stay up any more nights, worried that someone wouldn't come home to me. Ever again," she said, tears welling up in her eyes.

"I'm sure it's just as hard for them, to see you go out there as well. It goes both ways."

"I know."

"And I suppose you have to ask yourself, is he worth all the potential pain?"

Darcy instantly nodded her head. "He is."

"So is Steve. That's exactly the conclusion I came to, and believe me, I thought over every single variable."

Darcy chuckled, relieved that the mood seemed to be lifted. "Oh, I bet you did."

"And then there's always the sex … the mind-blowing sex, Darcy. Mind. Blowing."

She full-out laughed. "I get it, I get it. Steve loves the pussy."

Natasha shook her head. "No, I don't think you do. You won't get it until you experience it with Bucky. Honestly, I don't know what it is about Steve, if it's his serum, or if it's from not getting any in decades, but it's all he wants to do now. The stamina is … just out of this world. So when it all finally happens with Bucky, be ready."

"Ready? For what?"

"Ready for him to basically want to have sex with you 24/7. Like a kid in a candy shop. And he probably won't care where … just as long as there's a sort of flat surface, and even then, it's not exactly necessary."

"Wow, Steve? Captain America?"

Natasha slowly nodded. "Yep. I've never had sex in such strange and random places before … and I've never been what you'd call 'vanilla'."

"Damn. And you think Bucky is the same way?"

"I'd bet on it."

"You would, eh? What else have you bet on? Particularly you and Steve."

Nat shrugged. "How far you got."

Darcy opened her mouth in mock surprise and clutched at imaginary pearls. "I'm shocked. So … who won?"

"Neither of us," she said solemnly.

"Neither? What in the world did you have us doing in those dirty minds of yours."

"Steve seemed to think that Bucky would hit a home run, because of his unwavering faith in him, I suppose. Especially with all of us being in an exotic location, away from the base. But for me, I was banking on you being a 'three dates' kinda girl."

"Three? We've barely had one. Our first date was unfairly interrupted. And the second one involved us acting like other people and extracting information from assholes. Not exactly your typical dates."

Natasha tilted her head in thought. "No, but they still count. Our lives are not exactly typical either."

"Touche. But what did you bet on?"

"Reciprocal oral."

"Reciprocal?"

Nat gave a nod. "I figured you for a girl who demands equality in the bedroom. No one-sided oral."

Darcy sighed. "I usually am all for equality, but we both crashed."

Natasha turned to her and grinned, while pushing her sunglasses down her nose, so Darcy could see her eyes. "And now that he's experienced it, he's not going to rest until he gets you back, and until he gets it perfect."

"Is oral ever perfect? I mean, on a girl. Performed by a guy."

"It can be when you've got a single-minded super soldier with something to prove."

"Damn."

"And I bet that in no time, you'll be hacking into the Avengers security system in order to erase some sexual encounter or other, in some strange place, from our cameras."

"You've had to do that?"

Natasha only shrugged.

"Care to make this bet of yours interesting?"

"It's not a fair bet, you'll be controlling the situation."

"I can't predict where Bucky is gonna want to have sex."

"But you can suggest."

"I promise, I won't. I'm actually curious to see what he comes up with."

"Alright. I bet that the first place he wants to have sex outside the bedroom, will be in a place where a lot of people can hear you. He won't be able to wait to get you back to the privacy of one of your rooms."

Darcy laughed. "Alright. And I think that despite appearances, he's a little old-fashioned. I bet he's gonna want to have sex on some moving object. Like a plane, or a train … or a motorcycle."

"Done."

"What are we betting with?"

Natasha tapped her fingers to her lips in thought. "Hm. Something that's not exactly important ... or life or death, but will still be painful to part with. Something like … makeup? How about your Anastasia Beverly Hills glow kit."

Darcy's mouth dropped open in surprise. "That glow kit is my prized possession. But fine. And if I win, I get your Urban Decay Naked pallette."

"You're on," Natasha agreed, then turned towards Darcy and let her voice drop low. "Can I make a suggestion?"

"Um. Sure?"

"Start wearing more skirts … they'll just be so much more convenient. Trust me."

"Wow."

"Honey, you have no idea. But you will."

**~~::::::...::::::~~**

* * *

 

Later on in the day, a perfectly warm and sunny day in Mexico, and as the sun was just beginning to set, bathing the area in intense hues and long and lazy shadows, the two couples decided to take a stroll around a mercado near their hotel. Steve and Natasha were holding hands, completely comfortable with showing affection, as long as they weren't recognized. It seemed as if they could both relax outside of the Avengers facility, could stretch out their metaphorical legs and enjoy each other.

Darcy and Bucky were still in the very beginning stages of coupledom though, and still learning each other's boundaries where things like public displays of affection were concerned. They walked beside each other, close, but not holding hands, though he'd sometimes put his arm around her when they stopped to look at various trinkets.

Around the time that Darcy took a liking to a concho belt being sold by a very old and plump woman … she started to notice that something was a little … _off_.

There was a small group of children selling candy to the tourists … which was nothing new, but the kids that were hovering around them, seemed to have a purpose in mind. To get her alone. Three of the children tried to get Steve, Bucky, and Natasha to give their attention in one direction, while another kid tried to get her to follow him in another direction.

For a moment, she tensed, but it wouldn't have been noticed by anyone around her, as she kept on her perfect mask for the crowd. She knew that someone was trying to lure her away, but she didn't know why it seemed to be specifically her they wanted.

Then she remembered the strange package from days ago, addressed to her, and emitting a cloud of chemical dust when opened.

She was definitely on somebody's shit list, she just didn't know who's. She momentarily thought of the couple the night before, who Darcy and Bucky had so successfully played. She wondered if it could have been them, but dismissed the idea instantly, as she recalled just how oblivious they were. They didn't have the finesse to pull something like this off. They also had no idea that they'd been played.

The one comfort to her at the moment, was that it didn't seem like whoever the mystery-person was, wanted her dead. They could have easily laced the box with deadly poison, rather than a high dose and combination of recreational drugs. No, they didn't want her dead … just scared.

Just as Steve knelt down on the ground, in order to talk to one of the kids, and as Natasha and Bucky looked on at the adorable sight of Captain America buying a pack of chiclets from a cute, albeit dirty, little boy … the child obviously assigned to Darcy, then reached up and grabbed her hand, pulling it into the opposite direction from her friends, trying her to weave her away from the scene.

She turned her head to see Natasha eyeing her, as she seemed to know what was going on as well, but was being artfully nonchalant about it.

Darcy slightly nodded her head, trying to will Nat into knowing she had it covered. She could handle it herself. Of course, she could have gotten the other two involved, but she didn't want someone ending up dead. And she also wanted information, which took a certain finesse. She couldn't risk certain metal arms to go around punching, as well as certain shields whizzing by people's heads. They didn't need any trouble, didn't need a scene, not with what happened last spring, when the countries of the world tried to put the Avengers in a corner.

 _Nobody puts Darcy in a corner_ , she heard a familiar voice echo in her mind. It gave her courage, as it always had before.

She let the little boy lead her into the direction of an alleyway.

_Girl, you better get your mind right._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, y'all. I'm @anniemar over at tumblr as well, if you ever want to hang out. Thanks for reading :-D


	13. Hurt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Darcy thinks she may have figured something out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I wasn't kidding when I said I was back to posting regularly on this guy ;-)

**~~::::::...::::::~~**

* * *

 

_Girl, you better get your mind right._

Trip had told her in the beginning, when she was still in training, that it was an advantage she had, having the ability to keep a cool head. He'd said it would separate her from the other junior agents of SHIELD … as she was grounded, sure of herself. Fear had never made her freeze under pressure, as she had an uncanny ability to block out every distraction if need be, and to just focus on the moment. She was always able to crack jokes in the middle of a crisis, as she did with mjolnir (myuh-myuh), during the battle with the Dark Elves. She was always able to keep what was important in the forefront of her mind, had no problem taking risks. This had helped her to run into a building without thinking twice about it, and saving animals from a pet shop, while an Asgardian death-bot reigned terror and fire on a sleepy New Mexican town.

_Go ahead and get your Pink Floyd on, Darcy._

Right. _Comfortably numb_.

Darcy let her mind fade to the cold place she went to, when she was about to embark on something dangerous. She had always been pretty great at stuffing down feelings, of course, so it came naturally to her. There were the rare times when those feelings simply exploded out of her, from being stuffed for too long, but this wasn't one of those types of situations. This was a necessity. A cool head was required, simple as that. So she let the little boy who was sent to lure her, navigate them into a shadowy alley just outside of the mercado. She didn't blame him for doing it, as the kid was probably starving, and was given some sort of incentive for his help. It wasn't personal. "Aqui! … aqui," his little voice said.

As they neared the intended destination, she casually took a bill from her back pocket and grabbed his other hand, subtly placing it in his palm.

He looked up at her with shocked wide eyes before letting go of her, and running off down the alley, as it appeared that her time with him was at an end. She would inevitably be surprised by the real messenger any second.

And then there it was, a knife to her neck, arms grabbing her from behind, one from around her throat and another from around her shoulder and chest.

Darcy almost rolled her eyes at the predictability of it all. She'd learned how to get out of that particular position her very first week training with SHIELD. The person behind her didn't exactly display a firm grip. Whoever it was, actually had no idea how to accost a girl in an alleyway. The little kid hadn't been an actual thug, and apparently neither was this individual standing behind her. Immediately, she used the strength from her legs to flip the assailant over, and simultaneously pushed the knife away with her left arm. His knife caught on her shoulder on his way to the ground, but it wasn't anything terrible, just the barest of slices in her skin. A simple scratch. A necessary sacrifice in gaining the upper hand.

The man lost his hold on the knife and it fell to the ground. As he hastily stood up, she quickly and expertly bent down and retrieved it before pushing him into a wall. She held the knife against his throat, using his own weapon against him. "What's the message you needed to deliver so bad?"

The man swallowed hard beneath his knife. "De- … detener …" he stammered, realizing he should probably be speaking English. "Stop … exposing … mutants," he finally spit out, speaking the words as if he'd been coached on them, as he certainly wasn't fluent in her language.

This guy seemed to be young as well, somewhere in his mid-twenties. Someone who should know better, someone that was aware of his choices and actions, unlike the small children used to do his dirty work.

"Quien … who sent you?"

He only shook his head.

Darcy took the knife from his throat and replaced it with her foot, clad in a strappy sandal with a sensible heel, in order to keep him from going anywhere. The guy widened his eyes in surprise at her lightning-fast and agile leg move. She took a second and looked down at the knife, noticing that it wasn't your normal everyday switchblade. It was ceramic with a sturdy plastic handle, something specially made, specifically crafted for some reason or another, as ceramic knives were usually only used in kitchens, not as weapons.

She saw the open fear in the man's eyes. He was obviously deathly afraid of the one who sent him on this mission. "I'm gonna ask you one more time before I give this knife back to you, except I will put it straight in your gut, instead of your hand. Who sent you?"

The man barely shook his head again, under her heel. "He … will kill me."

"I will kill you."

"You will be fast, he will not," he said, with a cold acceptance in his voice.

She felt a pang inside at his seemingly resigned attitude about dying. He was basically saying "fine, better you than the other guy."

Darcy narrowed her eyes at him. "I know a few people back at the mercado who would take their time with you, too."

The guy still held fast, apparently more afraid of his mystery-boss than he was at the thought of facing the wrath of Captain America, the Winter Soldier, and the Black Widow all at the same time.

_Damn._

She was beginning to get impatient, as she figured she only had about a minute left before Steve and Bucky realized she was gone, and rushed to find her. Plus, she wasn't sure if Natasha would tip them off first, or give her time to do the job herself. Darcy hoped for the latter. She pressed the heel of her shoe right into his jaw in order to make him understand a little better, the seriousness of their situation. He groaned in pain, his eyes slamming shut as something other than her foot was obviously hurting him, and as she studied him, realized his cheeks seemed strangely chubby for how skinny he was … or perhaps they were swollen.

Darcy frowned, took her leg down, and stood straight. She put the knife blade up to his cheek with one hand, cupping his jaw with her other hand, and forced his mouth open. He seemed to have had a bit of dental work done recently, or rather, _un_ done. It looked like someone had ripped the fillings out of his teeth, and it looked terribly painful.

Her mind began to connect dots as puzzle pieces began to fit together. Metal fillings. A ceramic knife. The mention of mutants … not aliens, not Inhumans, not any other brand of meta-humans or enhanced individuals. Just the mutants. Her fucked-up secret admirer from hell was someone who only gave a fuck about mutants.

She was pretty sure she understood now. Darcy knew who was trying to scare her, and who was probably ultimately behind the mysterious package that was sent to her as well. And that someone had put this poor untrained kid up to pulling a knife on her. It was ridiculous. Almost insulting.

_What is his game?_

"Go," she said, quietly. "Go tell your jefe that you effectively scared me."

Darcy released her grip on him and stood back, holding the ceramic knife up. "But I'm keeping this. I kinda like it. And I need a new one, apparently. One that's not metal?" she asked, cocking her head to the side.

The man's eyes looked shocked at being released, and then flooded with relief as he began to back away. "Pero … pero …"

"But … but what?"

"Estás herido."

"Cómo?"

"You, hurt," he said, pointing to her shoulder and the thin line of blood running down her arm. She looked down, frowning. The cut looked a lot worse than it actually was, as it wasn't very deep at all, and would stop bleeding soon.

Darcy shrugged at him. "Estoy bien. No es nada."

He shook his head. "No. Estás herido. _Hurt_."

"Darcy!" She could hear the echo of Steve's voice as the sound bounced down the alleyway. She turned to see his silhouette at the entrance, the dusk masking his features. It was starting to get dark.

Darcy turned back to the guy. "Go! Now! Ahora!"

"Hurt," he said one more time and nodded, before turning to take off in a full run down the alley, in the same direction the little boy had gone. She hoped they'd be okay, whoever they were, and whatever their story was. If she had to guess, she'd probably say the guy was indebted somehow and didn't really want to be doing this kind of work. It didn't seem like he had much of a choice though, as he'd already had his fillings ripped out of his teeth, and she didn't want to imagine what else could happen to him. She hoped that whatever it was he did, delivering the message, scaring her, that it had fulfilled his deal with his devil.

**~~::::::...::::::~~**

* * *

 

"What is it that you're always saying, Darcy?"

"Huh?" Darcy looked up at Steve standing over her. They were all on the jet headed home, as their Mexican business-pleasure-mixing-trip had to be cut painfully short, due an unnamed threat knowing exactly where she was. Or at least, unnamed as of that very moment, as she hadn't gotten the chance to tell anyone much, before hastily bandaging her shoulder and getting the hell out of there. Natasha busied herself with flying the jet while Steve gave her the 3rd degree. Bucky had quickly wrapped her up in his jacket, as she'd felt strangely cold when she'd gotten on the plane and her teeth had begun to slightly chatter. She'd put her arms through the sleeves of his coat and let his scent, a mixture of men's products, mints, smoke and just him, fill her nostrils and give her comfort. It had felt nice accepting his little piece of chivalry. She felt nice and protected with it on ... even though he was currently seated away from them and staring out a window, his mouth set in a firm line, as if in thought. And it didn't seem as if those thoughts were good. If she would have guessed, she'd say he looked downright angry … but she didn't want to guess at that moment. She just wanted Steve off her back.

"What is it you say?" Steve asked again, demanding her attention. "You seem to have forgotten. When we all go on dangerous missions together, or when one of us gets hurt, or when one of us is going through a tough time. What do you always say?"

Darcy sighed deeply. She hated it when he used her own words against her. "Ohana."

"And what does Ohana mean?"

"Family."

"Annnd?"

She looked up at him and blinked. "Really, dad?"

He nodded. His square jaw set in a hard line. "And what does family mean, Darcy?"

She blew out a long puff of air. "Family means no one gets left behind. Or forgotten."

"Exactly. I am disappointed in you, Darcy. You don't know what Ohana means."

She put her face in her hands. Darcy didn't know whether to burst out laughing in Captain America's face, and at his regurgitation of her irreverent Lilo and Stitch quotes, or burst into tears, as he was actually doing a very good job at making her feel pretty damn bad.

Darcy made a sound of frustration and looked up at him. "For the last time, I had it handled!"

"You were injured!"

"It's a scratch! It doesn't even hurt!"

"Then why are you huddled in your seat, pale as a ghost from the pain?"

"What? I honestly don't feel any pain!" She actually didn't feel her arm either, but decided to keep that bit of information to herself for the moment, as she just wanted him to shut up about the whole thing. She felt fidgety, her legs bobbing up and down, so she absentmindedly took her new ceramic knife off of her tray table with her right hand, and started to play with it. An old instinct kicked in and she began to flip it around, weaving it expertly in between her fingers. It was at that moment, that she noticed Bucky's narrowed eyes staring at her, his brow furrowed. She abruptly put the knife back on the table and looked down.

"And what's with the knife," Steve inquired, his voice a bit softer than it had previously been.

Darcy gave an indignant shrug. "I like it. Needed a new one. You took my old one."

He stared at her for a long moment, his nostrils flaring. She was doing a pretty good job of pissing Captain America off, and yet she just couldn't quite stop fanning the flames.

"You really wanna go there right now?" He asked her quietly, but firmly.

She stuck out her chin and shook her head. "Not really."

"Why did you take off by yourself ... this time …"

Darcy knew he wanted to say more, she knew what he'd implied, as he didn't want to say too much in front of Bucky. Steve meant to ask " _why did you take off by yourself this time … when things were going so well?_ It made her feel even worse. He was being a loyal friend and comrade, not saying things out loud, in case she didn't want anyone in the vicinity hearing the words. Even if that person was his best friend in the whole world.

"It wasn't like that, Steven Grant. A little kid led me to that alley."

"I … I don't even know what to say to that. Only that you know better."

"For the last time, _dad_ , I was not deliberately taking off by myself. I knew the kid wanted something. I knew that whatever it was, I could handle it, because I'm about 99% sure that whoever is behind it, doesn't want me dead … just scared."

"And it's my job to cover that remaining 1% chance, Darcy."

She threw up her right hand, as her left hand was busy feeling numb, and resting on her tray table. "Fucking hell, man. I knew that if there were too many cooks in the kitchen, things could easily go downhill. Like it has in the past. I didn't want anyone to end up dead, on either side. And I didn't have a whole lot of time to come up with some strategy with you guys. I made a split-second call. I didn't want anything bad to happen."

Steve gave her a short frustrated laugh. "Anything bad? You got your arm sliced up!"

"IT'S JUST A FLESH WOUND," she yelled, standing up. She then grabbed onto the back of a chair as her knees buckled, all of a sudden feeling very light-headed. "Shit."

Darcy then began to notice a strange sensation on her hand, as her sudden change in position had made it so her injured arm was now hanging down at her side, instead of propped up on her tray table. It was a very creepy crawly feeling, like someone was running a cold finger down her arm. She looked at her hand, but it was completely covered up by Bucky's jacket, as it was much too big for her. What she did notice though, was the drops of liquid spilling onto the floor from the sleeve. A lot of drops. She could hear them pit-patting as they hit the ground. And the longer she stood and stared, the more the drops turned into a straight-up gush.

"Darcy?"

Her mind faintly registered that Steve's voice sounded a little too far away from where he was standing, right in front of her. He also seemed to be a bit panicked.

He leaned over and yanked her arm out of Bucky's jacket, and what she saw there made her completely lose her legs. " _Shit_."

Her hasty bandage and its wrappings were completely saturated with blood, and so was the front of her shirt, the wound gushing red down her arm and onto the floor.

She gave a little laugh as she felt Bucky's arms catch her before she hit the ground. "He was right," she managed to say, while fighting to stay conscious. "I really am hurt."

The world then started to spin.

_"Christ, Darcy, I'm sorry … Nat, get us back … fast!"_

_"She's gonna bleed out!"_

_"Natasha, how long we got?"_

All of their voices bounced around, echoing, as if they were in a cave. Some far-off cave. A very cold cave.

She vaguely heard the sound of fabric being ripped apart, and realized that they had to tear her shirt open at the arm, in order to look at the wound.

_"It won't stop … won't stop bleeding."_

_"The fuck?"_

_"Must be ... something on the knife."_

_"We need … tourniquet …"_

_"Some kind of poison ..."_

Her whole body started to feel as numb as her arm had.

"Stay with us, Darcy. Please stay … stay with me."

There perhaps had been a time, a little over a year ago, when Darcy wouldn't have minded fading away, as it certainly felt easy and peaceful … very natural. She was done fighting. But now, today, with Bucky's voice in her ear, so tender and yet, so terrified ... she knew that there were still many things out there that she wanted to fight for.

"Please stay with me, babydoll."

She held on as hard as she could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: that whole "taking care of someone while they are sick or injured" trope might make an appearance.


	14. Best Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy's dreamin'. Also, holy exposition chapter, Batman!
> 
> In which a few things come to light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For awhile, it seemed like I'd bitten off more than I could chew with this chapter, but it's finally in a place where I can dig it. I had this need for Darcy to have flashbacks, in a dreamlike state, but conveying that, proved a little challenging. It took me a little while ;-)
> 
> Special thanks to Lefty for the advice and encouragement. 
> 
> And thanks to y'all for reading and kudoing and commenting. It means the world.

**~~::::::...::::::~~**

* * *

"Start talkin', Steve."

Bucky stared at his best friend, sitting outside of the Avengers Facility medical unit in the waiting room. Both still covered in blood, they'd been ushered out from the main action, as the doctors tried to figure out what had happened to Darcy, while giving her an emergency blood transfusion. He'd refused to leave at first, but Steve convinced him that the doctors would work much better without him staring holes into their heads.

Steve sat up, as he'd had his elbows on his knees, head in his hands. "I don't know what you want me to tell you."

Bucky gave a harsh laugh. "How 'bout, what was all that talk back on the jet. You were mad about somethin' other than her going off on her own."

He shook his head. "I've told you, it's something she's done before."

"Why?"

Steve leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. "I … I don't know why she'd do it. She doesn't like to talk about it."

He inclined his head. "Now there's some bullshit. The two of you were talkin' pretty cryptic back there. Was there something goin' on between you two? Before I came here to New York?"

His friend's eyes flew open. "What? Don't be ridiculous, Buck."

Bucky crossed his arms. "Seemed pretty familiar back there to me, the way you two were talkin'."

Steve looked him straight in the eye. "Buck. There's never been anything between us. When we met, she was with someone else … and then … no. _No_."

"So she was with that English guy?"

"Who?" Steve frowned for a moment. "Oh, no. That happened before we met. I think that was just a … fling … thing," he trailed off as he looked to the side and out a window, obviously hoping they could just stop talking about the whole thing.

Bucky wasn't having it. "Steve. You're gonna start openin' your goddamn mouth. Now."

Steve gave a very long sigh and ran a hand through his hair, before turning back towards the conversation.

"When you asked me awhile back if I liked her, and I said not in that way, I wasn't lying to you, Bucky. When I first met her, I certainly thought about it, I was … attracted. Your instincts there, were right, but you're usually right when it comes to that sort of thing. But she was with … and then she was hung up on the memory of someone else. And so was I, pretty much. I know how all that goes … so being friends was the much better choice there. And then there was Natasha … and it was like it was just meant to be that way. Me and Nat. And then in time, Darcy … and you."

Bucky knew that Steve had said several different things, but his mind could only focus on one of them. "Who was she hung up on?"

Steve shook his head slowly, warring with himself over whether or not to tell him, probably wondering if Darcy would want him to say anything. In the end, Bucky won.

"Gabe's grandson," he said, just above a whisper. "Antoine Triplett. They called him Trip."

Bucky blinked for a moment. Somewhere deep down, he'd known that. "She said they were friends."

Steve gave a laugh. "They were. For most of their lives. So I felt like I could relate to her, help her out, when her friend died in the line of duty. And publicly, and certainly in the eyes of SHIELD, they were just friends … but, they were together. They had a different sort of thing goin' on, but they were together. And she took his death pretty hard. But she could never really mourn in front of most people. So I guess … she'd just go off on her own to do it. Only a few people really knew."

"Like who?"

He shrugged. "Tony. Jane. That's probably it as far as all of us go. Though I'm sure some have guessed. In some ways she's very open, very blunt. But in others? No."

Bucky frowned. "How did you find out?"

"Buck."

"Fine. Then what was with the knife thing? She said you took her old one away." Bucky had been mesmerized with how Darcy had been holding that ceramic knife back on the jet, as if it had been an extension of her hand, practically alive, instead of an inanimate object.

Steve gave him a hint of a smile. "You don't miss anything do you."

"These days? When it comes to her? No."

Steve gave a nod, his eyes softening. "Alright. She seems to have confided in you quite a bit … so. Okay, you know Darcy started training with SHIELD when she was pretty damn young, she was in college. Her and Sharon, both legacies, were in similar positions. Sent to … shadow people. She was sent to keep a watch on Jane."

"Yeah, she told me that."

"And she's good. Very good. She's also damn good with a knife. But after Trip died, I took the one she carried around on her."

Bucky was taken aback. "Why? You thought she was gonna …"

" _No_ ," Steve exclaimed, eyes wide. "No, I never thought she'd do that. She was just not in the right frame of mind, so I took it. I told her I'd give it back soon … and she told me to just keep it."

"Why would she do that …"

'I think she was just done with SHIELD at that point, what was left of it, done with that particular line of work. That's when she started being with us permanently. With the Avengers, but in a different sort of capacity."

"As a hacker."

"Right. She was always Tony's girl anyway. Legacies like them, they seem to stick together. Though I'm not sure she's very fond of Sharon. Anyway, Darcy was always in with him. Like how Maria will always be with Fury, no matter who signs her checks."

Bucky's brow knitted together. "How do you feel about that?"

"Me and Darcy have an understanding."

"An understanding."

Steve's eyes held his. "Yeah. We do. She has a special talent, she just finds things. Like that mutant boy in Canada you two went to see about. She finds these kids before the bad guys can. Scans social media for strange sightings, knows exactly where to go and how to find these people. Metahumans, as Darcy calls them. Enhanced individuals. She's the one who found Peter Parker."

"The spider guy."

Steve nodded. "She figured that one out, reported to Tony, gave him all the video, the info ... which was fine at the time. It was her job."

"And now?"

"Now she only reports potential rogues to him. Kids like Peter Parker get reported to me. Just me."

"Okay. So … you think … she went off back there … because of something to do with Gabe's grandkid?"

Steve gave a wave of his hand. "No. Not at all. Darcy had some healing to do, yes, but she's come a long way. It's been nearly two years and now? Today? She's the Darcy I met, before all that happened. I completely believe that she's ready to, you know, date again. If I didn't think so, I would have never brought the two of you to Mexico with us. Never would have encouraged it."

"So then what was with the grillin' back there, you were givin' her."

Steve sighed. "I was angry that she tried to do that on her own. And I was worried. I've had her disappear on me before. She never compromised missions. She'd just leave after without telling anyone."

"She do this lately?"

"No. Not for awhile."

"When was the last time?"

Steve frowned, thinking. "It was after our truce, but before you settled in here. Got back from Wakanda. All that. After a mission, we came upon the aftermath of terrigen crystals, which is what killed Gabe's grandson. There's not much left of a person after being exposed, if you're not Inhuman. She seemed fine, but then she went off without telling anyone. Evaded the security she's supposed to go out with. She said she just wanted to go to a concert by herself. I think music … I think it was something she had in common with him. With Trip."

"Hm." Bucky felt a sting at that, as music was a thing they also seemed to have in common.

Steve broke him out of his thoughts. "She was fine when she got back. Was surprised that we were worried."

"So you thought … she'd just left us? Because she was thinkin' of this guy?"

He shook his head. "No. I don't know what I was thinking. I was angry. I shouldn't have reacted the way I did. And I wasn't even angry with her, exactly, but that it even happened in the first place. Mexico was just supposed to be a quick job. Something harmless. A damn vacation compared to what we usually do. And yet it ended up with her in medical."

Bucky narrowed his eyes. "Who do you think is responsible."

"Probably the same person who sent her that package back at the facility. Probably a mutant."

"Why a mutant?"

"The package came after she outed a mutant. The kid in Canada you two handled. Some mutants don't think he should have basically been forced to attend Xavier's.

Bucky sat back. "Doesn't sound like your kinda thing either."

"That was Tony's call. He gets the potential rogues. It's one of the many parts of our agreement. To be able to work together again."

"And in the meantime, the two of you certainly have put her into a position, haven't you."

"Another reason why I was angry, and wrongly directed the anger at her. Listen, I'm not proud of how I reacted, but she needs to be more careful."

Bucky nodded. That he agreed with.

They were then interrupted by one of the doctors who had worked on Darcy, as she walked into the waiting room.

They both stood, but Steve spoke for them. "How is she?"

Dr. Cho looked between the two men. "She'll be fine, we're just going to keep her sedated for about 24 hours, to be safe."

Bucky frowned. "Why?"

The woman had on a very practiced and professional face. "The toxin she was given, it was a very powerful substance. There was an anticoagulant on the blade of that knife she had, along with an accelerator. It was meant to make a person eventually bleed out. There was also a strong hallucinogen laced with it, but it hadn't had a chance to kick in yet. Peyote usually takes about an hour to take effect … and it just needs time to run it's course, so it's better if she's sedated."

Both him and Steve were confused. They spoke at the same time. "Peyote?"

"Strong hallucinogen."

Steve's eyes lit up. "Couldn't Wanda help? Like before?"

Dr. Cho shook her head, looking annoyed that he'd even suggest such a thing. "She could probably temporarily give her a balm of a sort, but I don't know about her removing the chemicals already present in her system. There's no magical solution here, Captain. It has to run its course. All we can do is keep her comfortable and make sure she doesn't have any averse reactions. And especially with the blood-loss, I'm not comfortable giving my patient's nervous system over to Ms. Maximoff's untested and quite frankly, erratic, energy."

Steve nodded once and crossed his arms. "Understood. So what was the toxin? Peyote and something else?"

Dr. Cho looked down at her clipboard. "I've had my assistants researching. It was a combination of chemicals, found in nature, that some of the native people of Mexico pass on knowledge about, from generation to generation. Typically used for protection. As it will totally incapacitate a person, both physically and mentally."

Bucky reacted with a low growl and Steve threw a hand on his shoulder. He had an instinct in his gut to hop on a jet back to Mexico, and set fire to whoever had done this to Darcy.

"Listen," Dr. Cho said, in a calm voice. "She'll be fine. We're just going to keep her sedated here for 24 hours, for observation. The two of you should go get some rest. Get cleaned up."

Bucky promptly walked to the door. "I'm not going anywhere, except in there," he said, pointing to the area where Darcy was, sleeping in a hospital bed, hooked up to machines and a saline drip.

"I'll go get you some clean clothes," Steve said, knowing it would be impossible to get him to go back to his room to change.

**~~*...*~~**

For the past several hours, Bucky had sat right next to her, watching her, making sure she was protected and safe. She looked too small and too pale, with dark circles under her eyes. She'd frown and shake her head every so often, as if she were dreaming. It was in these moments that he'd try to talk to her in a soothing voice, in case she was having nightmares. He would get in a sentence before he trailed off … never quite knowing what to say. He'd then always reach for her hand, but instead could only run his finger lightly along her palm, before ultimately holding back.

When he finally leaned back in his chair with a book, she started to talk.

"We should be best friends, James Buchanan," she mumbled.

He looked up, immediately stood, and leaned over her.

"Darcy?"

**~~*...*~~**

_Somewhere in her mind, Darcy knew that all of this had happened before, in some way, in some version. She would be a silent witness to the twists and turns that the trip would take her, as she knew how this usually went … resist, and take the chance of it all ending up bad, her mind taking her to darker places. She wanted to stay in the light. And Bucky was in the light._

_So she looked up at him, a specter sitting to her left. They'd been too silent during the car ride home, and she was flushed, warm and open from pitchers and flavored vodka shots. She had a need to hear his voice while he sat next to her, to feel the soft and low vibrations from it._

_"We should be best friends, James Buchanan."  
_

_Darcy watched a devastatingly slow grin spread across his lips, just like honey, thick and sweet. "Oh yeah, why's that?"_

_It was just a little too much. She couldn't look at him anymore. She could probably fall in love if she wasn't careful. So she turned towards the window before she spoke. Before she told him why they'd make the perfect pair. But how could she tell him she felt as if they were kindred, if only because they were now shadows to supposedly greater people, and yet they actually preferred it that way. Because fuck the spotlight.  
_

_She took a deep breath. "Because that's what we are. In the story of Captain America, greatest hero of our times, and Jane Foster, famous Nobel Prize-winning scientist, and a god's one true love … that's what we are. We're the classic best friends. We're the sidekicks."_

_But she couldn't help it, couldn't keep staring out the window. She had to look at him again. "We should be the main characters in our own story. We're badass like that."_

_He gave her the most adorable look of confusion, and yet under that, she saw hope. "What kind of story would it be?"_

_She shrugged. "I don't know yet, I guess we'll see."_

_He frowned a little, but then his eyes lit up. It was only for a second or so, but it was still there._

_She decided not to fall in love with him that night, but for the moment at least, to fall in love with his eyes instead. Pale, yet warm. And how the lights from passing cars reflected off them. She lay her head on his leathered shoulder and fell asleep, not knowing whether or not she meant to … and she drifted on._

_She woke up to a different voice. They were still in a car … an old and familiar presence to her right._

" _Almost there, baby."  
_

_He always had a voice that sounded so smooth, as if forged out of whiskey and smoke._

_And she wasn't sure she'd ever hear it again, but there it was, crystal clear. It was heartbreaking, the things you find that you forget about a person, even if you don't want to. Like the exact color of their eyes. How their hand feels wrapped around yours._

_Life really does go on. She'd realized that we were meant to forget those things, or risk never looking into another pair of eyes again. Never holding another hand.  
_

_But she took comfort in the ghost that her mind created before her._

_Darcy gave him a slow smile. "Who are you taking me to see this time, General Jones?"_

_It was a name that he liked to use on missions, the only time he'd almost acknowledge being the grandson of a Howling Commando. Gabriel Jones._

_He laughed. "A gothabilly band. You're gonna love em."_

" _Oh, god."_

_The car pulled up to a Camden club. Trip's left hand reached out for hers and pulled her out. They stood in front of a concert venue for a few minutes, drinking each other in. He bent to kiss her. It had been too long since they'd seen each other. He'd stopped in London to visit, before she made her way back to the States, after the HYDRA coup. The last show they saw together._

_All he ever had to do was give her that look of his, filled with warmth and a hint of something naughty. Something borderline obscene._

" _Come on, admit it. You think I'm alright."_

" _Occasionally, maybe... when you aren't acting like a scoundrel."_

_They drank a little too much, and danced a little too much. Everything they always did to keep from talking a little too much. But every once in awhile, he'd say something._

" _One of these days, hopefully soon, we'll be able to do this all the time," he murmured into her ear, as they rocked together to a slower song. Looking forward to a day when work wasn't so crazy.  
_

" _Yessss," she whispered back. Though she never really believed it would ever happen.  
_

_**~~*...*~~** _

"How is she?"

Bucky opened his eyes to find Stark standing in the doorway.

He stretched his legs for a moment before answering, gathering his wits, as being alone with him made him uneasy. "They say she'll be alright."

Tony walked into the room and stood next to the bed, looking down at her. Bucky could see several questions on the tip of his tongue, but he kept silent, which was probably for the best.

Finally, he leaned down and brushed a lock of hair from off her forehead. "Cho told me you were on peyote, kiddo. Do me a favor? If you see Jim Morrison, tell him I said 'hi'."

_**~~*...*~~** _

_She could hear echoes of Tony's voice. He was there. Finally. She could talk to him.  
_

" _Hi." She greeted him with a raised brow._

" _E tu, Darcy?"_

_She went to see him in his office at the facility, as he'd been by to visit Rhodey. She sat in the chair across from his desk and looked at his drawn face. For the first time in her life, she thought he looked old. And tired. So tired._

_Darcy hadn't seen him since everything that had gone down. Since many of their friends disappeared. Tony figured she'd put all the blame on him. He looked at her like a dog about to be kicked, bracing himself._

_She gave him a sad smile. "I'll always be on your side, you should know that by now. You're like the big bro I never wanted … but ended up with, all the same."_

_Relief flooded his features. "You're always so great at making someone feel better, you know?"_

_She shrugged, tilting her head to the side. "I try. After all, Stitch … Ohana."_

_He raised a brow. "Right, Lilo. Ohana."_

" _But we do need to talk about your badness level," she sighed. "I mean, I'm not happy with you, that you took that intel I gave you on Peter Parker and recruited a 15 year old boy, making him skip class to fly to Germany ... and get beat the fuck up, but whatever."_

_Tony's eyes widened, totally surprised by what came out of her mouth. "I watched all the video, read all the intel, he was ready. All he needed was a good uniform upgrade and he was good to go."_

" _He wasn't ready and you know it, fancy spandex or no. You just wanted his gnarly webbing skill. You wanted the surprise factor. "_

" _He was fine. Anyway, they ended up with the bigger surprise. Literally, Darcy. So much bigger," he then paused with his index finger in the air. "And how excited am I, that I get to use the word 'literally' in the proper context."_

_Darcy shook her head. "Tony, Parker had been fighting petty thieves, muggers, and cat burglars in Queens. Not going head to head with supervillains or elite military and espionage veterans in foreign countries."_

" _Okay, calling Rogers a veteran is fine … but Wanda?_

_Darcy rolled her eyes. "You put him out there. It's what I'm afraid of with these younger metahumans. He's gonna be on a radar now and there's nowhere for him to go … he won't have to worry about finding the supervillains anymore, they'll come to his door on their own."_

_Tony laughed. "This is what you've made of the whole thing? Mad at me over Parker? You know what? I'll take it."_

_Darcy bit her lip, mulling over her next move._

_She decided to go with it. But she'd try to be gentle about it._

" _I did some digging and I have something for you. Here", she explained, taking her phone out. "I'm sending you a slide-show of JPEGs. It's from Ross' personal files. The originals, from the notebooks, I hope they haven't been destroyed, but knowing Thunderbolt, they might just be. This file? It's the only copy and I'm giving it to you. I'm deleting my copy right after it gets sent. Don't want it."_

" _JPEGs of notebooks?"_

" _Yep, notebooks. Pics of every page. It's what Barnes had in his backpack in Bucharest. I say "notebooks", but they were diaries. Several of them. And there's probably enough evidence in there, if he has decent representation, to get him out of any war crimes or terrorism charges brought up against him. Just giving it to you straight, here. They paint him in a very sympathetic light and none of his writings are lies. It's all the truth. They gave him no choices, controlled him like a player they built from the ground up in an RPG."_

_He picked up his phone and saw that the files were sent. "You sure about that?"_

_She nodded. "He'd be acquitted. All they'd need to do is call a few expert witnesses to the stand. Prove he wasn't of sound mind. And then prove he'd been living a peaceful and monastic life in Bucharest, once he_ was _of sound mind. And now that His Royal Highness has backed off and is like "hey, I was just kidding about that whole trying to kill Steve Rogers' best friend thing", and now that it's been proven that Zemo was behind every tiny detail, the public is very sympathetic. At the end of the day, he's a war hero, from World War II. To most American citizens, anyone still alive who fought in that war, is a living saint."_

_Tony raised a brow. "You don't have the same opinion?"_

_She shrugged. "Sure. Of course. They fought against genocide. Nazism. Fascism. But after that, when all the boys came home, they put all the women out of the work they'd begun to enjoy, and forced the idea of the perfect and utopian nuclear family with 2.5 kids, white picket fences, and a benji in the yard. The lie of the American Dream started with them. The paranoia of McCarthyism … "_

" _I see we're getting off on a tangent here, Lilo."_

" _Have you met me?"_

_Tony looked down and shook his head. "So I'm the one with the only copy of this file?"_

" _Told you. I'm on your side."_

_She knew that he'd end up doing the right thing eventually, and if not … she was completely capable of getting the file back._

" _So I'm assuming you've been through all the files on this? Did your signature Lewis research?"_

_She nodded._

" _I'm assuming you've seen that video footage?"_

_Darcy nodded again and sighed. Here was the heavy stuff._

_"Never watch it again, Tony, but I want to tell you something. And I'm not going off of any sympathetic familiarity here, because I've never met Barnes. And I have no more fucks left to give, quite honestly. But he was a weapon. A trigger that HYDRA pulled … and any humanity that was still in there was being killed along with your parents. You could see it. It's what HYDRA wanted. So that if anyone ever got hold of him, or if he went rogue, that he wouldn't be able to live with himself once he remembered. They banked on him either dispatching himself, or choosing to go back under their conditioning because he couldn't bear the alternative."_

_Tony shook his head, eyes closed. "Can't. I can't, Darcy."_

_She sat forward, needed to say what she was about to say. "I understand. I do. It's terrible. And I'm not saying this because I'm not on your side, but think about you and Rhodey for a second. If it was down to Steve or Rhodey, who would you choose? Even if Rhodey was full of shit, who would you choose?"_

_He gave her an incredulous look and raised his hands in the air. "Rhodey is never full of shit! That's his thing!"_

" _Not my point. But you and Rhodey have the same kind of friendship … same kind of connection, that Steve and Barnes do."_

_Bitterness entered his speech. "How can we even compare to their sheer level of epicness?"_

_She waved a hand. "Psssh. You've been through a lot of the same stuff, Tony, if not more. They get the romance of a hazy Greatest Generation growing-up-in-the-depression and fight-against-tyranny backdrop … but you and Rhodey have been in the shit together too. He thought you might be dead once, we all did. Yet he didn't stop looking for you. The man never stopped. You've been best friends and comrades for years. Brothers. And the sight of that man learning to walk all over again? The one that doesn't want you seeing him so weak? The guy that has been the measure of strength throughout your decades-long friendship? Who has gotten you out of a thousand fuck-ups? That's exactly how Steve feels when he looks at Barnes right now."_

_He took a few seconds and then held up his arms. "What can I even do now?_

" _I don't know, Tony."_

_He slammed his fist on the desk, but she didn't flinch. "Do you think I wouldn't have hired the best lawyers and representatives out there? To find loopholes and make amendments to those goddamn accords? All I needed was a starting-off point and he wouldn't even give that to me. He refused to even think about a compromise. Everything is so all or nothing with him. Black and white. It's just not how the world works. It's not how anything works! I know how things work! Buildings and bridges are even made to bend. You don't bend? You break. And now look at us. We're broke."_

" _I know."_

" _We were a …"_

" _A family?" She knew it was like that for many of them, including her. Steve and Tony, both without family, had built a new one, crazy as it was. "Families fight all the time. It's what they do. Doesn't make you not a family. And we still don't leave them behind. No matter what."_

_Tony just shrugged, looking defeated. Darcy always hated that look on him, so she decided to change the mood._

_She gave him a crooked grin, thinking the time for seriousness was now over, as the two of them could only ever take so much. Being serious all the damn time was not in their nature. "All I know is, dude … Steve's mind wasn't right. You know what I heard?"_

_He narrowed his eyes. "What?"_

" _During, you know, that whole thing that happened? Steve kissed … no, wait for it …_ Sharon _."_

_Tony's face went blank of all expression. "What?"_

" _I know, right?"_

_For the first time since being in his office, he cracked a smile with no pain behind it._

_He turned to stare out the window a moment. "But … but Peggy had just …"_

" _Riiiiiight?"_

_**~~*...*~~** _

"Sup, Stitch ... " she mumbled.

Stark frowned. "Has she been talking in her sleep?"

Bucky stood, feeling an instinctual need to be on equal footing with him. "Every once in awhile. The doc said it might be from conversations you had earlier."

The corner of his mouth twitched into a tiny grin. "Hey, Darcy."

_**~~*...*~~** _

" _Sup, Stitch?"_

" _Darcy."_

_His use of the name "Darcy" instead of "Lilo" after calling him "Stitch" was her first clue. She was about to get some bad news. He wasn't playing around. Not even a little bit. This was "Serious Tony"._

_She was now in his office at the tower. She sat in the same chair in front of his desk, but this time he knelt down in front of her._

_She felt numb. She knew what he'd just said, but she didn't believe it. She felt as if she were in a dream within a dream ..._

" _Just let me see the files, Tony."_

" _Trust me. You shouldn't read them. Shouldn't look at them."_

"' _Shouldn't' was never much of a friend of mine. Or yours either."_

" _I'm not kidding about this, Darcy."_

" _Give me the fucking files, or you know damn well I'll just look them up myself."_

_He pressed his lips together and shook his head, eyes to the ground. He then reached back and grabbed a folder off his desk._

_Darcy snatched it in an instant and opened it. As soon as she did though, it fell to the floor._

_Front and center, was a picture of Trip in uniform, and next to it was a photo of his remains._

_He was a pile of ashes, but she could vaguely make out his face … his beautiful face._

_Darcy bent over to pick up the file, but Tony had it before she could get to it. He had her wrapped in his arms in seconds, as she fell apart.  
_

" _I can't … walk back ... to my apartment like this. Crying like this."_

" _I got you, Lilo."_

_**~~*...*~~** _

"Buck. You need a break."

"Not goin' anywhere, Steve."

He'd just brought Bucky dinner. Threw him a sack of what seemed to be burgers and fries. He had to admit, he was pretty damn hungry.

"Dr. Cho said she's out of the woods now. She's gonna be fine. At least go back to the apartment and take a shower? You don't want her to wake up to ... "

Bucky actually cracked a grin while smoothing his hair with his hands. "What, Steve? This not my best look?"

His friend grinned back. "You're lookin' a little grizzly, Buck. Darcy might even say 'Chewbaccha-esque'".

He knew he hadn't showered since Mexico, nor had he ran a comb through his hair or a razor across his face, in what was probably days.

Bucky shrugged. "I thought she liked Chewbaccha."

Steve walked over and sat in the chair next to him. "I get it. You don't want to miss anything. I know what it's like …"

_**~~*...*~~** _

" _I know what it's like … to be afraid to think of life without a certain person in it."_

_As the boss, Steve was the only one with the security clearance to override her work. She'd locked herself in her apartment for a week and no one could get in. Tony, of course, could override the security as well, but he knew better._

_Steve never knew better. He just went in. At the time, she both loved and hated him for it._

_He stood in front of a shredded photo of Skye, that she'd posted to a wall. A knife had been thrown at it too many times to be able to tell who it was, but he knew just the same. He looked at her, sitting on her couch, huddled in one of Trip's jackets he'd left with her. She'd been playing the same couple of songs over and over again ... and several empty bottles of wine littered her coffee table.  
_

_All she read in his eyes was pity. Darcy hadn't wanted anyone to see her like this, let alone Captain America see her like this._

_She tried to sit up straighter. "You don't understand, Steve. I'm not afraid. I'm not afraid of life … and I'm not afraid of death. I just don't care. I don't give a fuck anymore." She stood from the couch and gestured with her arms. "Look at all the fucks I don't give! Look at them, Steve."_

_He tried to give her a reassuring look, but it only came across as patronizing. "If you didn't give a fuck, Darcy, you wouldn't be mourning him. He made his decision to be a SHIELD agent. You have to respect his decision to fight for what he believed was right."_

_Darcy took her knife from her pocket and threw it, so that it landed right between a pair of eyes on the shredded photo. Steve didn't flinch._

" _I don't respect his decision to run off and try to save that basic bitch," she hissed. "Who still gets to be alive, while he's just a pile of ash … and unlike your friend, he's never coming back. Not in any form."_

" _Darcy …"_

_She took the photo she had pressed to her heart, walked over to Steve, and handed it to him. It was an image of Trip. "I've tried to think of a million ways, a million scenarios, where he miraculously survived … like your Barnes. Like Coulson. Like Fury. Like nearly everybody!" she began to laugh, and then realized she must have looked pretty damn crazy. "But there's no coming back from that."  She pointed at the picture. "He's really gone. He is ashes. Sacrificed himself on the altar of SHIELD. What's left of SHIELD, anyway. A fucking waste."_

_Steve looked at the picture, obviously struggling with what to say. Finally, there was only one thing, really._

" _I'm sorry."_

" _I can't work with them anymore. I'm not talking about a vacation or a leave of absence. I'm saying that I need out … but they always have a way of reeling you back in."_

_He suddenly looked hopeful. "What if you just worked with us."_

_Darcy turned from him. When he gave her that look, she always felt compelled to do what he wanted. Steve Rogers and his stupid handsome earnest unpretentious endearing face._

_"I don't want your pity."_

" _It's not that at all … we've talked about it before. Tony wants you all to himself. You'd be on Stark Industries payroll. Work only for the Avengers."_

" _I'll have to think about it._

" _Take some time. Just … you're gonna have to lay off the knives for awhile."_

_She turned back towards him. "Why?"_

" _I'm taking your knife away." He leaned over and pulled her knife from it's spot on the wall. "But you can have it back soon."_

_Darcy shrugged. "Aye aye, Captain. You remember what I said about not giving a fuck? Keep it."_

" _Wasn't this your grandfather's? You'll want this back, Darcy."_

" _I doubt it."_

_**~~*...*~~** _

"What are you doing?"

Sam Wilson walked into the medical unit with a gadget in his hands, and was currently setting it up on the bed-side table."

"It's just a speaker. You know, for music? This ain't my first rodeo, Barnes. If we play music she likes, it'll bring her comfort. It's for the vibes, we need some good ones in here. It'll help."

"Hmm." He watched as Sam pressed a few buttons on his phone before a woman's sultry voice filled the air.

" _Nobody stands in-between me and my man … it's me and Mr. Jones."_

Bucky shook his head. "What kind of song is this?

_**~~*...*~~** _

_"What kind of fuckery is this …"_

" _I love this song."_

" _I know you do, General Jones."  
_

_She'd played him a song on the jukebox. Me and Mr. Jones. It was last call and she'd pulled him out of a chair for a dance. A last dance._

_They stayed for one more. One last tune and one last drink. Back to Black ... and a Jack & Ginger. _

" _We only said goodbye with words."_

" _I know, baby."_

" _I died a hundred times."_

_Before going home for their last night, he put his jacket around her arms._

_**~~*...*~~** _

"I died … a hundred times." Darcy was frowning and shaking her head as if in pain, but her eyes remained closed.

Bucky shifted in his chair, alarmed. "Turn the song, Sam. She doesn't like it."

"She loves Amy Winehouse," Wilson argued, but then changed his tune when he saw the look on Bucky's face. He held up his hands. "Okay … okay. It is kind of a depressing song, I guess."

Bucky snatched the phone from off the table, attached to the speaker, but Sam sprang forward to grab it back. "Hey, that's my Spotify playlist. Spotify playlists are sacred, Barnes."

"Fine. Just play somethin' … better."

Sam cocked a brow. "Got any suggestions?"

Bucky set his jaw in a hard line. He knew what he wanted to play, but didn't know if he wanted Wilson in the room for it.

He sighed, deciding to go ahead with it. "Love in Vain. The Rolling Stones version."

Sam looked down at his device, tapping the screen. "So … that your song? The two of you got a song now?"

Bucky shook his head, immediately regretting his decision. "It's just a song we both like."

"Sounds like your song, to me."

_"Well I followed her ... to the station ..."_

_**~~*...*~~** _

" _The blue light was my baby … and the red light was my mind."_

_The trip seemed to have taken her full-circle. Back to Bucky._

_"Can I play you another one?"_

_Bucky nodded, eyes dancing around, as if it would help his ears to listen to the music better. "Sure. Please do."_

_Darcy didn't want to keep playing him songs, didn't feel comfortable schooling him too much, on the things he missed out on. But in this case she couldn't help it. She always jumped at the chance to share pieces of music she loved. Rarely did anyone actually seem interested. Bucky though … Bucky was very interested._

_If she wasn't careful, she was going to fall in love with much more than just his eyes. That night, she fell in love with his lips, his smile ... until she'd woken up one day, to the sound of the ocean, and realized she might just love the whole person._

_She couldn't help it. He was irresistible, and he didn't even have to try.  
_

_Her mind sent her back to the moment ... the moment she knew. She could love him._

_He held out a paper flower. The man with a metal arm, an enhanced, hardened, and desensitized supersoldier … had made her a paper flower._

_She wondered if knowing how to fold one came from his boyhood, when no one could afford fresh flowers._

_It meant more to her than any expensive bouquet in the world._

"We should be best friends, James Buchanan," she whispered, before opening her eyes.

**~~::::::...::::::~~**

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Easter eggs from the chapter and thoughts about what I was writing can be found [here](http://anniemar.tumblr.com/post/151090203852/easter-eggs). 
> 
> Songs mentioned were Me & Mr. Jones and Back to Black by Amy Winehouse. And Love in Vain, performed by The Rolling Stones. The last song has been mentioned in previous chapters. 
> 
> Up next: I think I should get back to that whole rated-E part of my fic. It's still at an M. I have to fix that.


	15. We meet again ...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Darcy and Bucky come to an understanding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I watched CA:TWS for the millionth time on TNT and remembered that I had a fic to finish ;-) I mean, I have several, but this one has been occupying my brain the past few days. 
> 
> Sometimes I look at myself in the mirror and think ... bitch, what have you done? Lol, this fic was meant to just be a fun quick thing, but I can never just do fun quick things. But here's a quick chapter. It's been something I've been bringing up in my google docs and staring at periodically for months with me never quite satisfied with it. But in the spirit of moving things along ... here we go.

“ _We should be best friends, James Buchanan_ ,” Darcy mumbled softly.

She began to stretch, feeling as if she hadn’t moved her limbs in days.

“On your left, Darce.”

It was a male voice. Rich. Baritone.

She opened her eyes and saw him sitting right next to her. Darcy instantly sat up straight, probably a little too fast and reached out. He took her hands and she wrestled them out of his grip to run her fingers across his face.

It was his face. Beautiful and smooth with warm brown eyes. So warm.

“ _Trip_ ,” she gasped, sitting forward. 

But then it wasn’t his face, as the shape of his jawline and nose morphed in front of her eyes.

He took her hands again and lowered them. “No, honey. It’s Sam.”

She immediately sat back, putting distance between them. They were friends, but she had just latched onto him as if they were old and familiar lovers, and they certainly did not share that status.

“I’m so so so sorry,” she stammered, mortified. She was then plagued with an onslaught of dizziness and pain. She fell back on the bed and noticed the tube hooked up to her IV was moving like a snake, then actually _looked_ like a snake … while the IV bag itself seemed to be expanding and contracting on its own, as if it were breathing. 

She blinked for a moment, not believing anything she was seeing. “The fuck?”

“Darcy, it’s okay. Listen, the reason why you’re seeing things is probably because of the peyote. That ceramic knife you took was laced with all kinds a nasty shit.”

She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and threw her arm over her face. “Samuel Thomas. I’m so sorry. I didn't mean to ...”

“Don’t you worry about it.”

He made her feel comfortable enough again to open an eye. “It’s good to hear your voice. I haven’t seen you in awhile. Where ya been?”

“I stayed behind on that last mission, to oversee the cleanup crew. Make sure everything was tied up in a nice big bow, so we don’t have the U.N. or the government breathing down our necks again.”

“So you’re home?”

“I’m home … got back last night.”

“That’s good, Samuel Thomas," she said softly. "I missed ya.”

He gave a chuckle. “Hey, why do you do that first and middle name thing? Only my mom called me that, and it was only when I was bein’ bad.”

“Wow, she must have called you Samuel Thomas a lot, then.”

He laughed. “Maybe once or … two thousand times.”

“The first and middle name thing,” she mumbled, as she tested whether or not she could sit up. Turned out she didn’t quite have the energy just yet. “It’s something my dad used to do. I was always Darcy Elizabeth. He did that to everybody, even Director Fury,” she laughed. “It’s a way that I can I honor him. Keep him alive in some tiny way.”

Sam gave a little laugh. “Darcy Elizabeth. How did you get that name?”

“Eh. My mom has a sense of humor. I couldn’t be Elizabeth Darcy, as that was a little too on the nose, so she switched the names. She had a thing for Laurence Olivier as Mr. Darcy ... I don't know how, since Colin Firth is  _the definitive_ Darcy, but whatever. Some of us gotta be extra.” Darcy opened both eyes and squinted at the IV bag. “Is there truth serum or some shit up there? Because I never tell people these things. Ever. Too embarrassing.”

Wilson chuckled. “I feel honored. Maybe it’s the peyote.”

“Peyote? Damn. I have to say that I’m getting pretty tired of being drugged.”

Darcy finally felt a little more grounded. “How long have I been out?”

“About a day and a half.”

“Hm. Are they all still mad at me?”

He gave her a warm look. “Of course not. And they were never mad.”

“Steve was.”

“Well Steve’s first reactions are sometimes not his best.”

She tried to sit up again. “So where … are they … _ouch_.” Darcy felt a painful stab in her shoulder, where the knife wound was.

“Easy, Darce. That’s not just some regular stab wound. The doc had to cut all the tissue away that had been infected with the poison.”

“WHAT?”

She looked down at her shoulder expecting half of it to be gone, as that's what it felt like, but instead she saw just a normal shoulder. She pulled the arm of her hospital gown up and inspected the wound, but it wasn’t there anymore.

“Cho fixed you up with her human-tissue 3D printer contraption. But it’s gonna take a little while for your body to accept the new skin, sorta like a piercing or a tattoo. Takes time.”

“Ugh. It feels like Babe Ruth hit me right in the shoulder with a fastball.”

“Here,” Sam said, pointing to a control pad next to her bed. “Press that little button, it’ll dispense pain meds.”

“The good stuff?” She automatically pressed the button. Several times.

“Yes ma’am, the good stuff. And by the way, there are so many better pitchers out there than Babe Ruth.”

“Okay, how ‘bout Grover Cleveland Alexander, how's that for a blast from the past?” She then started to giggle uncontrollably. “Oh my god I just realized, people actually did name their kids after presidents back in the day. I have to ask James Buchanan if they were all in a support group together. I hope they knew some kid named Martin Van Buren or Millard Fillmore. I mean, can you imagine being named something like Jimmy Carter Wilson? Ronald Reagan Wilson? Hmm … you know, Jimmy Carter Wilson actually has a nice ring to it.”

“Yep. Those drugs work pretty damn fast, don’t they. Straight into that vein.”

“Instead of the Sharks and the Jets on the mean streets of Brooklyn, I bet it was one of the U.S. presidents beating up some kid named Winston Churchill. Heh. People were such dorks back in the day.”

“Still are. Better?” He looked at her with an expression that was equal parts amused and annoyed. 

Darcy lay back on her pillow and stretched her legs. “Oh yeah, much better. I feel like I’m floating now. Am I levitating off this bed?”

“Nope.”

“Sure feels like it. Wish I was wearing an orange shimmery dress right now, I could be Dana Barrett from Ghostbusters, levitating off the bed.” She turned to him. “Hey, Samuel Thomas, guess what?”

“What, Darcy.”

“There is no Darcy only Zuul.”

The corner of his mouth twitched and she knew she had him. “Oh Zuuly, you nut,” he deadpanned. 

She went back to her giggling until Sam lay a hand on her arm. “Shh. As much fun as we’re having Darcy, Barnes will be back any minute and he’s probably gonna kick himself for not being here when you woke up. He was here practically the whole time, but finally went back to his room to take a shower.”

Darcy tried to smash her lips together in order to quit laughing. “Okay, okay, I’ll behave," she said, trying to take a deep breath. "And aww, that’s adorable.”

“Yeah, he watched over you while you were sleeping and tripping on peyote. So did you have any crazy dreams about bat country? Visit any deserts? See the Doors?”

She shook her head. “Nah, but I did go on a … on a _trip_.” She could barely get out the last word before another fit of laughter broke through. “I saw Trip on my trip … and I saw Steve and Tony and Bucky. And you were there. Oh my god, what is this, the Wizard of Oz?” She pulled up the blankets over her head to stifle the laughter.

Darcy could then hear footsteps enter the room. “Darcy?" The voice sounded panicked. "What’s wrong, is she okay?” Bucky had obviously asked Sam, since she was still busy shaking with laughter under her sheet.

“She’s fine.”

“Is she crying?”

“She’s laughing.”

Darcy peaked her head out from under the covers and got a good look at him standing next to her bed. He was a fucking vision. His hair was still wet from his shower and he was sporting one of his henleys from his apparent endless supply of them, and a pair of nice snug jeans. He looked drop dead gorgeous and she didn’t even want to think about what she must’ve looked like.

She waved a hand at him. “That .. is not even fair.”

“What?”

She glanced down at his perfectly squeezable ass. “That bass. I’m all about that bass.” Darcy smashed her lips together to keep from giggling again but it didn’t work.

Sam eyed Bucky with no discernible expression on his face. “She pressed the pain button a few times.”  
  
"Just once or twice," Darcy muttered, calming down and lying back on the pillows. "I'm incredibly parched," she said, thinking she'd be kind and give Sam an out. "Is there perhaps a Sprite nearby?" 

Wilson practically jumped out of his seat and headed to the door. "I'll be happy to find you one." 

In his absence a palpable silence fell in the room and it began to make Darcy feel uncomfortable, mainly because Bucky was just standing there and looking like he didn't know what to do with himself. He opened his mouth to say something and then shut it. 

"Sit down?" Darcy asked with a soft smile. 

He gave a quick nod and walked around the bed to sit in Sam's old spot. He nervously ran a hand through his hair and she looked on dreamily. He really was so handsome. And adorable. And so wonderful for staying by her side while she was in a hospital bed. So wonderful for helping her through it all, caring and worrying. Her mind went back to her last memories on the jet bleeding out, to him begging her to stay with him while she lost consciousness. She all of a sudden felt very guilty. 

"Bucky," she whispered, now looking into her lap. "I'm sorry." 

"No, Darcy," he spoke. "There's nothing to be sorry for." 

She looked up at him and his blue-grey eyes. She still had trouble grasping the beauty of them, especially seeing them now, after finding out he never left her side. "Maybe, but ... I'm sorry all the same. I feel like I haven't leveled with you, and I should have by now." 

"You don't owe me that." He frowned, shaking his head. "It doesn't matter. What matters is that you're safe." 

Darcy gave him a weary grin. "You really think that? If so, we're in the wrong line of work. Apparently I'm not even safe behind a desk, but that's okay. It is what it is." 

He furrowed his brow. "You need to be more careful." 

She shrugged. "Maybe." 

"Darcy ..." 

"Stop," she said, raising a hand. "I get enough of the 'dad' stuff from Steve. I'm a big girl. I might not act like a grown-up all the time, but I'm not a child. We've both made choices to be here, to do the job, and if we're going to do this thing, we both have to accept that there's very real danger in that ... and ask ourselves if it's worth it." 

He all of a sudden seemed scared. "Worth it?" 

She wondered if he thought she meant to break things off with him.

_Not a chance in hell._

"Yeah. I used to not want to get involved with another person in 'the life' ... I couldn't bear the thought of someone else ... never coming back. Never coming home. It happened to my dad ... happened to Trip. It's happened to a lot of friends over the years. Shit's been real since my very first day at S.H.I.E.L.D. For some reason we've found ourselves wrapped up in this world, and it's plain to see that we're not getting out of it anytime soon. So is it worth it? That potential pain and anguish. And yes, to me, you are worth it. Every moment. Every second, you're worth it."

Bucky looked at her in shock. "I ... I don't think I'm ..."

"You are."

Darcy turned her hand over in her lap, her palm facing up. It was up to him, whether or not he wanted to reach over and take it. After a few moments, when nothing happened, she closed her eyes. Perhaps she just wasn't worth it to him? He'd been through so much already after all. But then she felt his warm fingers brush over hers and he squeezed them tight. She blinked through tears, staring at their hands entwined. "I feel like we haven't talked in awhile," she croaked out, feeling a little foolish. The drugs must have been making her soft and weepy. 

She looked up and he gave her the warmest of smiles. "We have plenty of time for all that. I'm not planning on goin' anywhere." 

Darcy nodded. "I'll tell you things from now on ... like what happened at the mercado. That was stupid, going alone like that." 

"Yeah," Bucky agreed. "But you have to think quick in those situations, and you have to act. I think in time, we can make a good team. You can tell me what I need to know without saying anything. With just a look. We can work better together. Be more careful that way." 

She grinned. "I think so too." 

His thumb absentmindedly traced a circle around her palm. "Because something tells me that things aren't gonna calm down anytime soon. We have a better chance if we just admit that and work with it. Work with each other." 

She realized it was exactly what she wanted to hear. Instead of waiting for a time of peace, when things were not so crazy, they could just work with the crazy. Stop wasting time on wishing for things that would never be. As their lives would never be normal. 

Darcy nodded emphatically. "Good. That I believe." 

Bucky gave her a longing stare. "I'm glad. And know that you are very much worth it to me." 

"I am?" 

He chewed on his lip nervously. "Worth more than I could have ever hoped for, babydoll." 

She closed her eyes with what must have been a dreamy grin on her face, shaking her head, mildly embarrassed by the sentiment. Things were getting a little too gooey for her comfort level. "Stop." 

He gave a chuckle and leaned forward so that his forehead almost touched hers. "We'll start training together soon. I want to see first hand what you can do with a knife. No more surprises in that regard." 

Darcy scoffed, acting put out. "Training? I'm pretty damn rusty. I've been on a desk job for awhile. And I'm also in a hospital bed and apparently half of my shoulder is now artificial tissue!" 

He laughed. "You'll get no sympathy on that front from me." 

She gave him a crooked smile "Touché. And thanks." 

"For what?" 

"Not going easy on me." 

He raised a brow. "Oh, I won't be ... going easy on you." 

"Good. And if I'm gonna be showing you all my skills, it's time for you to show me that arm," she said, nodding at his shirt-covered prosthetic. "No more hiding shit from each other." 

His flesh-and-blood hand squeezed hers again. "Deal." 

She leaned over and gave his soft warm lips the lightest of kisses. She hummed when he pressed back, relishing in the feeling of being able to do such a thing. To kiss Bucky and it be so natural, of having that kind of free rein where she could just reach out and touch him when she wanted. And he could do the same with her. They had relaxed into an understanding. They were together. Really together. 

"So worth it," she breathed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: Bucky and Darcy get to witness each other in action. Finally.


End file.
